Harry Potter And The Rejection of Canon
by vgealtach
Summary: Harry Potter was a magical child that brought magic to millions of people around the world. But what if, some things changed? What if, with the addition of a few mysterious strangers, Harry Potter completely lost the plot and found a new route. Taking both canon and fanon into account, what if things were more than what they were? Harry Potter, all of it, done differently.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter and First The Rejection of Canon

Chapter 1:

The Boy Who Got Rejected

Mr. and Mrs. Tonks were very adamant about being normal, thank you very much. All of their neighbors agree that they are not even on the list of suspects regarding strange goings-on in the area. In fact, no one knows where they live precisely, nor that they were _there_.

Mr. Tonks was a nurse at a local hospital, which no one in the area knew about, hidden as it was. He primarily dealt with all manner of ailments of a calcium-based nature, which mostly means he deals with broken bones. He was an average man, with an average body and an average sized neck to be sure. Mrs. Tonks was a lithe woman with long, wavy black hair. Her hair served no particular purpose, save her love life... Also, she was a Doctor. The Tonks had a daughter called…erm...Nymphadora "Don't Call Me That!" Tonks, and in their opinion, she's a rebellious fire sprite bent on causing them all manner of grief.

The Tonks had everything they ever wanted, but they also had a secret. Obviously. Refer to the previous two paragraphs. What is this secret, you may ask? Well, suffice it to say, this charade is getting old; they can do magic. We all knew this. You had to be somewhat familiar with the worldwide phenomenon of Harry "I'm Doing the Thing!" Potter, otherwise you wouldn't even be reading this.

Now…where was I?

Edward and Andromeda were happily celebrating the fourth greatest news they've ever heard. The first was when Andromeda proposed to Edward, and the second when they heard they would have a daughter. The third happened to be when they found out the same daughter was a metamorphmagus - a shape changer. This one happened to be the death of a particular wizard terrorist by the name of Voldemort. As they were celebrating the end of "He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named" in their own unique way - Ted yelled as he knocked over a vase, Andy was launching fireworks inside her own home, and an 11-year-old Nym was passed out on the floor with ice cream surrounding her form – there was a knock at the door.

Wands were pointed at the door instantly, even by the previously passed out young girl. Cautiously, Ted crept over and began to open the door. Outside, standing with a bundle, was a magnificent beard attached to a face which belonged to one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Because with that name, there can be only one.

"Might I enter?" He kindly asked the trio with wands still pointed at him, a dim twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

The young girl was the first to speak, "Only if you tell us when you became Headmaster of BoarAcne and whatcha got in your arms Mister Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore...if that is your real name!" To which the adults snickered silently at the young girl's attempt at _constant vigilance_.

Nevertheless, Headmaster Dumbledore replied thusly. "To answer your question: I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore have been Headmaster at Hogwarts for 20 years since 1956. I took four years off in 1966 so I could return in 1970 with a fresh perspective. So many fascinating events, so many - erm…" Between his ruminating on past events, he finally noticed that the girl had ended up face down in ice cream and her parents were waiting for him to enter. Clearing his throat, he joined the Tonks' in their home.

Setting himself down on a transfigured chair, he adjusted the bundle and began to speak to the oppositely seated parents. "As you may have heard, Voldemort was recently defeated. Unfortunately…this momentous occasion came at a cost." He stared morosely down at the bundle. "Young Harry here has defeated Voldemort through the Sacrificial Counter-Charm his parents provided for him." He paused in memory of his two past students. "The willing sacrifice of both his parents allowed for the charm to reflect even the killing curse cast by Voldemort himself. Surrounding his form is a sort of protection against Voldemort should he still through some foul magics wander this Earth." Young Harry began to fuss, and Albus began to rock him. "I come to you with the request to look after the boy, until the time comes for him to take over the Potter Estate."

With his eyes still on Harry's form, the headmaster missed Andromeda rushing up the stairs to prepare Nymphadora's old cradle after sending the house elf, Tipsy, to fetch some baby supplies. Meanwhile, her husband had noticed that his jaw had ended up on the floor. "I know this may be hard on you with young Nymphadora about to start Hogwarts, but though Voldemort may be defeated, his forces still linger." At the mention of her name, Nym's conditioned response to thrash about kicked in and she stubbed her toe on the nearby table due to it. This caused her to wake up briefly, groan, then fall back asleep. In the ice cream.

"You see, I know of a charm which will expand upon Harry's already present protection to extend along an entire house. This is entirely dependent on the blood relation of the recipient and their overall relationship. I had originally intended for Lily's sister to take him in, but the Dursley's declined. Petunia said that they already had one son to take care of, and while Mr. Dursley's job is stable, it is only enough for a modest family of three, and they couldn't take any money for fear of his workplace wondering where the extra money is coming from. She also pointed out how a magical family would be better equipped in dealing with a newborn pure-bloods' magical outbursts. So, with your consent, as young Harry's last living relatives, I would ask-"

"Give the poor dear over already Albus, I prepared his crib, and he needs to sleep comfortably!" Andromeda interrupted and snatched the bundle from his arms and was already up the stairs before the older man could even blink. Ted carried Nymphadora up soon after while attending to the cleaning of both her and the floor was taken by the ecstatic house elves. As Ted neared the top of the stairs, he cast a low powered Patronus and sent it down to pass a message onto Albus. "Of course we'll take him. Do be sure to come and visit every now and again, Headmaster. For now though, the young ones need to be put to bed. You can see yourself out. Goodbye."

Wordlessly, Albus Dumbledore left the house and met with his colleagues. He was met by a tabby cat, a giant, an Animagus that morphed from a dog to a man with long black hair and a beard, a man who obviously was a werewolf and a blonde spiky-haired young man who appeared to be no older than a seventh-year year student. It seemed he was oddly dressed in Hogwarts Professor attire underneath a dark brown overcoat. He chuckled and addressed the group, "They took him in."

A wave of relief seemed to wash over his companions.

"Sirius, Remus," Dumbledore began to address them individually, "I expect you to be on your best behavior when you come to visit. No pranking until he's at least six." The animagus and werewolf grinned sheepishly, looking at each other as they held in a possible plea for making it at least four years of age. "Hagrid, thank you for accompanying us and fending off the crowd of well-wishers." The named half giant shyly glanced away with a blush for the praise. "Professor McGonnagal, thank you for watching over his relatives and speaking to them for me." The tabby cat transformed into a strict looking woman with her black hair tied in a bun. The woman gave a bittersweet smile as she nodded.

Finally, he addressed the young man who seemed out of place. "And thank you, Professor Zaine, for arriving earlier than the rest of us and preserving the young couple's bodies. I can't even begin to imagine what would happen if some of Voldemort's forces came and..." Memories of the war and those irredeemable monsters forced him to hold back tears. Leader of the Light he may be, but there are lines you do not cross.

Professor Zaine held up one hand, his one good ocean blue eye and the other horribly scarred one closing as if he too knew what the headmaster was thinking about. "It was the least I could do, Albus."

The Animagus, Sirius by name, then spoke up to the same young man. "I'd like to both apologize and thank you for knocking me unconscious when I tried to attack you. When I saw you performing magic around the still cooling bodies of my best friends...I...Well..." He sighed.

Zaine smiled, shrugging. "Think nothing of it. I should be the one apologizing for you losing the opportunity to hunt the Traitor down." He frowned then, looking down at the ground in thought. "I still don't understand how Voldemort was able to bypass the charms though...You'd have to invite him in, and no one in their right mind would willingly let a monster like him into their home."

Remus looked confused. "You mean the Fidelius Charm? You don't need to be invited for that."

Dumbledore adopted a thoughtful look. After a moment, he realized something. "Professor Zaine, did you add some protections without informing the rest of us?" He didn't look disappointed, but rather curious instead.

Zaine nodded, gaze still lowered as he now rubbed his chin. "We meant to tell you; it was done at the last minute. Yes, I added a few things at the behest of Lily. Well, okay it wasn't me. I contacted an...associate...of mine to add a few protections to the house and Harry. Only someone who lives in the house can invite someone in, and..." His gaze then gained an ashen look as he looked up slowly. "James offered Peter a place to crash whenever he needed it. That would explain how Voldemort was able to come in. It's a loophole we'll address shortly..."

"I suppose now we'll just have to settle for seeing Prongslet grow up while we clean house," Remus spoke with a frown. His Inner Beast was growling at him to tear into those who threatened his pack, and he was of a similar mindset.

Zaine snorted, a look of distaste growing on his face. "That's assuming the Minister will allow us to send the 'upstanding citizens' to Azkaban. Or even put them under house arrest. No doubt we'll be seeing the Ministry coffers grow with the coinciding trials to the those behind bars." The look of anger on his face matched the feeling that Remus was feeling. However, it soon seemed to pass, and the blonde sighed heavily. "If you don't mind, I'll be seeing myself off..." He still had a few bodies to take care of after all.

With that, and a gleam reflecting off his right arm, he vanished from the spot. The rest of the group frowned as well; they knew the politics, and Dumbledore's influence can only get them so far. Likely the worst of them, the Inner Circle, would end up smelling like roses.

Sirius and Remus turned to each other, shared a look, then turned back to Dumbledore. Sirius spoke first: "We'll be heading off too. Remus needs a place to stay while the Ministry rescinds the law forbidding travel outside Britain. And I need to get back to work. I may not be able to kill them, but by Merlin, I'll rough them up some before carting them off to the cells." They turned and popped away. Literally.

Hagrid was next. "I should be off too, sir. The animals need tendin', and the centaurs need some 'elp with the unicorns." He nodded to the remaining two and palmed a sock while speaking a seemingly random phrase until he too disappeared.

With only Dumbledore and McGonnagal remaining, they turned to look at the house. After a few moments of silent contemplation, McGonnagal spoke up. "Did...the boy at least make it through alright? If there was any residual magic left over after what happened…"

Dumbledore sighed. "With the exception of a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, which was the result of the Darkest of Black Magic, he is fully unharmed. I fear I will be busy searching for a solution to his problem for some time. Would you mind taking the position of Deputy Headmistress for some time?"

McGonagall smiled morosely. "If it would help the son of my two favorite students of their time, I wouldn't mind a few extra responsibilities. That is, as long as you don't work yourself to death and leave me as the full Headmistress of Hogwarts. I daresay I would resort to summing you from beyond the grave to relieve some of my burdens."

Albus chuckled. "I fear you'll have to put up with me for some years more, Minnie." He deftly avoided a smack to the shoulder. "Don't worry my dear, I know what foul magics Tom used, and that should make it easier to help Harry. I shouldn't need but a few months, a year at most." After all, Horcrux's have existed for many, many, many, years. Surely someone would have developed something, anything at all to deal with the situation.

They both chuckled and turned to the Tonks house and heard a faint lullaby. With a chuckle following the thoughts of days with his own family, he left McGonnagal.

Before she left herself, she whispered, "I wish you a happy life, Harry Potter." And she promptly disappeared.

For a minute, the street which the gaggle of odd persons had stood became silent once again. But from the shadows, menacing shapes began to take form, talking and chuckling to themselves in what seemed to be some unknown language.

Suddenly, another shape joined them with a menacing wave as it seemed to materialize from the shadow of a lamppost. "We should depart before we are seen in this place."

"Indeed…," said another, "…But it is exhilarating seeing the beginning of what will surely be a very _entertaining_ time."

The shapes nodded and murmured amongst themselves more before they sunk into the ground to depart. The final shadow that stayed behind turned to look back at the house and manage a raspy 'good luck' and farewell to Harry Potter, the "Boy Who Lived," before snapping back into place as if it was never there at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and First The Rejection of Canon

Chapter Two:

Parseltongue

It was an average day at The Tonks House, as it had been for just about ten years. The sun rose, fell, and the process repeated for as long as monkeys sacrificed other monkeys in the hopes that the sun would rise again. If you were to look inside The Tonks' House, you would find that the only additions not there previously were a collection of photos of a black haired, crazy-eyed youth.

Currently, Harry Potter was preparing his breakfast. While he wasn't exactly forced to do this, the boy often woke up earlier than most, and with nothing to do he started to make his breakfast beginning at the age of eight; this, and the account of no one in the house being able to function without coffee, like most civilized beings. However, the act of kindness to the stability of the household's morning ritual upset the House Elf, Tipsy, as breakfast was one of the few times she could cook for her gracious masters.

"You rascal," she joked with Harry one day as she was teaching him to cook perfect tossed salad and scrambled eggs with toast, "Tipsy hasn't made young masters breakfast in years!"

After Harry was finished with his, in his mind, exorbitantly extravagant breakfast of Cookie Crisp and the usual poppy-seed muffin, he set himself down and turned on the telly to the news. It was more of the same: Gold, silver, and bronze were making a killing but not saturating the market to lower their values. Stuff was happening in other places, some of it bad. Only good things were happening in Great Britain because Britain is Great, obviously. Other news says things are just alright in regular Britain, and some of the stuff happening in other places were actually awesome. By the time he finished organizing the news to be vaguely useful in his mind, Harry had finished his meal.

Harry did so wish he could grow like his cousin Nym, but no matter what he ate he was always short and scrawny. He often wished his life was like the heroes in many stories, all inexplicably perfect for their race. Then when he gets older, he'd be enormous, and girls would love him!

' _It even says so in Nym's books!_ ' he thought to himself. He had to hide that he read them though, the book said it was for young adults. He was young, and it was research for when he _becomes_ an adult. For now, though, he'd still be short and scrawny. And wearing a single size too large clothes because he hasn't grown into them like expected. At least his glasses were awesome though. He picked them out himself. His major defining feature was his scar, though. Though for some reason it had faded slightly since he started learning occlumency, though it was still noticeably predominant. Being a child, and with no clear idea on how he got the scar, he made up stories. Like sword fighting a ninja, walking into a wall, a big dog, _actual_ lightning, it goes on and on. He asked his cousins once how he got that scar, but it made them sad, so he never asked again.

As he was reading his science book, Ted came down the stairs and ruffled his 'classically untamable Potter hair.' He tried once, and only once to style it. It had literally poofed back into the rat's nest it started originally was. He didn't notice Sirius giggling behind him, pointing his wand at Harry. Sirius was later smacked upside the head for ruining Harry's views on combing his hair.

His dogfather wasn't around much, as he was frequently doing auror things to people of ill-repute, but he did come around as often as he could. He always brought gifts and messages from Mooney each time he came to visit. Those particular gifts were the ones Harry liked, as ones from his dogfather often exploded and left him pouting until Sirius got smacked upside the head by Yvonne, his wife. She was of somewhat above average looks with long golden hair with hazel eyes. However, she had no magic at all.

Which was a... _serious_...blow to the painting of the crazy lady in the Black residence. According to her, marrying a Muggle-born was one thing, but to altogether _marry_ and **_breed_ **with just a muggle! And show love to his half-breed daughter?! Why, the "scandal" in question, a small tyke with black hair and orange eyes, was only five years old and already the terror of the neighborhood.

Yes, ruminations on the passing of time and the inevitable changes brought about by mortals aside, today was a typical day for Harry. Except it wasn't, because he was going to the zoo today with the rest of the Tonks family.

The rest of the previously mentioned Tonks family came downstairs and glared balefully at the exuberant Potter, who ignored them with the practice of a thousand months. After hissing and biting and _clawing_ her way to the Savior of Humanity (whose glory keeps us productive, may it ever always be caffeinated) and a few big gulps, Nym made her way over to Harry while Ted read the paper and Andy ate breakfast.

"So," Nym said to Harry, "are you all set for the zoo?"

The boy scoffed, "Of course! You should enjoy it too. After many years you shall be reunited with your people."

"Shhh!" She said, shifting her face to have a duck's bill, much to the amusement of a now grinning Harry. "Our conquest is yet to start!" They collapsed into giggles as the adults rolled their eyes at the now twenty-year-old and the ten-year-old with the same sense of humor.

It was a few hours later that the family found themselves at the zoo. Literally, as both Nym and Harry bolted and security had to escort them back to the adults; both children were visibly finishing the rest of their ice cream they somehow procured while simultaneously getting yelled at for running off in the first place.

After a hearty lunch, they wandered into the reptile exhibit. The Tonks did not want to enter due to vivid imagery from the recent war, but Harry was a young boy and snakes were cool. While Nym was looking nervously about, Harry was bouncing all over the dimly lit area and generally having a swell time. He quickly found the largest snake in the zoo and proceeded to nearly merge with the glass. The snake looked slightly amused, as far as a snake could anyway. And it was at that instant that Harry began to try and have a conversation with the snake.

"Where are you from?" He inquired, not expecting an answer. He was surprised when the snake jerked its head towards a sign that read: 'Boa Constrictor, Brazil.'

"Oh. How did you like it?" The boa constrictor merely waved its tail to the sign below it that read, 'Raised in captivity.'

"Hm. That sucks. But at least you get plenty of free mice, right?"

The snake deadpanned as if to say, 'Yes, because getting gawked at by a bunch of humans while they rattle on my walls for many hours a day is not the least bit irritating. Let's see how you like it getting stared at by a bunch of monkeys.'

"Oh. Well yes, I can see how that would – hold on you just spoke!" Harry was so surprised that his control over his magic went Rampant; a condition in which young pure-blooded magicals have such little control over their innate abilities, that the magic itself attempts to soothe the user by altering the surrounding around them in some way. Since Harry was focused on the snake but not wanting to hurt it or feeling bothered by it, his magic assumed he wanted the snake behind the glass and removed the barrier so he could claim it.

As the snake slithered out of the enclosure, it muttered a "Thanks" to Harry before saying that it was going to scare some monkeys for some time away from the rest of them. Harry could only mutter the phrase 'anytime' under his breath, still in shock over a talking snake.

Unfortunately, a loose snake is one of the many reasons for a place that houses semi-wild and predatory animals to close for the day, so The Tonks family and Harry all went home. As they entered their house, still shaking from seeing so many 'cursed reptiles,' Harry finally managed to ask them an essential question.

"Does the Ministry know about the magic snakes the nonmagicals have in the zoo?" To Harry, the question seemed innocent and straightforward. Because a talking snake is not in the realm of the unbelievable when confronted with a flying undead horse you can only see if you've seen someone die.

"What? Magic snakes? What do you mean Harry?" The Tonks, Nym especially, were unnerved about Harry's statement and did not find the question innocent or straightforward. Because 'snake' and 'magic' usually means You-Know-Who and if one of _their_ ilks found Harry…

"Well, snakes don't usually talk, at least that's what the books say, so I was wondering if –," Harry stopped as he saw the scared looks on their faces. He didn't know why they were scared, as he learned not to prank so soon after a special day because it ruins the whole thing. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"W-w-w-what do you m-m-mean t-t-talking s-snake?" Ted babbled, trying to keep calm but failing.

"We were having a decent conversation — sort of. Then the glass disappeared…my fault…and it said something about scaring some monkeys for more mice away from the other monkeys. Which is strange, because the monkey exhibit is nowhere near the reptile exhibit."

Suddenly, amid his wandering thoughts, he noticed all the Tonks knocked out. So...the perfect time for a prank? ' _No,_ ' he thought while physically shaking his head. ' _Today was a fun day, so I'll leave them alone_.'

"Tipsy!" When the mentioned House Elf appeared, he asked, "Can you move them to their beds, in silly clothes please?" Well, he tried to restrain himself. At least he hadn't asked Tipsy to make the Tonks' have different hair colors, place shaving cream on their hands and tickle their noses till they splattered it all over themselves, _and_ make them wear mismatched socks _**all at once**_.

"Of course, Young Master Harry Potter!" The exuberant Elf popped them all away.

It was several hours later that the group woke up, changed out of the…outfits…and confronted Harry about his snake problem.

"It's not a problem." He said. "I can talk to snakes, so what?"

"Harry…Only a few had the power to talk to snakes, and they were all dark lords." Andy tried to explain.

"Except for Saint Patrick, who yelled at all the snakes so they leave 'im to his diet!" That…that was how a ten-year-old saw that legend anyhow. " _And_ I'm pretty sure Indians would love me! And fear me! _**And** _Nym's book says girls like guys who can do stuff with their tongues!"

The adults, however, were stumped. He had a point, no matter how he said it in such a childish way. It's not like talking to snakes was a _bad_ thing per se but…

"Harry, a lot of people in Britain fear snakes. They would get scared of you if you started talking to them." Nym tried her hand. Suddenly, she realized what he had said and yelled, her hair turning scarlet. "... _ **Wait a second, what books?!**_ "

"The ones under your bed. The ones that say, 'Relationship Advice' and 'How to Get That Someone's Attention' and 'Defying the Pack.'" Harry answered.

Nym screeched and ran upstairs to a howl of laughter from the adults. That abruptly cut off however when they realized they needed to now give Harry 'The Talk.'

Ted cleared his thoughts and forced the conversation back on track. "Harry, most magical Britain civilians would give you a lot of grief over this. It'd be best to keep this...ability...hidden."

Harry deadpanned. "Yes, because it makes absolute sense for people to discriminate on someone's…natural born…Oh. _Oh_. I get it. Yeah okay, I'll keep quiet about it." Harry conceded the point, though with some resistance.

"Well, as long as you understand why...," Ted winced. He didn't want to hinder Harry's abilities but... while a person is smart, people are dumb. And boy, were the people of Magical Britain dumb.

With that, they settled in for the night. And after an hour of Nym getting grief over both her choice in novels and having them in the first place, they set off for bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and First The Rejection of Canon

Chapter 3:

Letters and Family

Harry Potter woke up feeling ecstatic. Soon, sometime today, he would get his very own authentic first-class mailed Hogwarts letter! Imagining all the shenanigans he would get up to, and with all the stories Uncle Siri had told him about the place and of its secret passages and the sort, he could hardly wait; his face twisted into a malicious grin one sees on many a mischief maker. Of course, with the recent revelation of his ability to speak to snakes, his grin faded. Though he had no particular prejudice against any of the houses, what with having some family in all four, he still was suspicious of what Slytherin would do to him. Not for being the Boy-Who-Lived however, but rather about Severus Snape. Apparently, according to both of his Uncles, Snape and his father held a mutual _loathing_ towards each other. He hoped it wouldn't affect his classes.

But that was Future Harry's problem. Today he was going to visit his Aunt's family. He has a cousin around his age - and while he has enough sense not to go showing off magic to his extended family - he _has_ been going over a lot of pop culture to talk about with Dudley. It wasn't much, but he _is_ only ten, and he has _two_ worlds he needs to keep up with, so some things are naturally overlooked. Not much though, as it is the early 90's. And thanks to his other cousins' connections in the Ministry, he got to add some runes to an Entrepreneurial toy he bought for his cousin. You don't need magic to use it, simply place it in the air and it stays! He also managed to wriggle in one where a nudge could send it in a direction, slowly but moving nonetheless! Of course, it only works when either a magical or a muggle with a specific and heavily regulated rune cluster is in the area. If someone isn't either of those, then it's just an ordinary toy. The Ministry may be corrupt and inefficient, but it does work. When it wants to. And it has been paid.

Still, the hope that he could be Jhock in what would be a rather _epic_ game of Star Journey kept his spirits up through the usual morning routine of seeing his family hating all life that exists BC (before coffee). Even with the usual shenanigans and general goings on, they managed to all get in the car to make their way to Privet Drive by ten o'clock in the morning. With a wave goodbye to their neighbor Ms. Figg, they headed off to spend some time with Harry's aunt.

Privet Drive was absolutely normal in every way, which was perfect for Petunia. Every house seemed to be a cookie cutter copy of each other, scarcely a difference among them. Which Petunia absolutely _adored_.To her, Lily could go about and be the most special one in the family (but just another witch to a different world). However, _she'd_ be the most normal person in the world. That would show her sister you don't need to be special to be the best. And perfectly normal is exactly how she ended up as. To most, she was another person living her own life in Privet Drive, but if anyone would look closely, they'd see she was _too_ perfectly normal; there was absolutely nothing out of place in her normal life, which was _not_ normal. Before her sister died, she'd often gloat in her head that no one was better at being normal than her.

But then her sister did die. And then the competition she was in didn't matter anymore. They were not as close as they could have been, but they were still close enough to gossip about their lives. They never really understood each other, being from different worlds and all, but they tried, and that was what mattered to them.

She was lucky the man she married was so supportive of her, though. True, Vernon wasn't the most handsome or ambitious, but she loved him all the same. He listened to her when it mattered and was very supportive of her decision to live as normal a life as physically possible. He worked hard competing for contracts selling drills at Grunings, and every bonus he made went straight to their Dudley's college fund. Some money would find its way to her bank account too, and she always put that money right back into their house.

Vernon never said much about it, as it made her happy. And to be honest, he was quite used to his dear wife's obsession to be normal. Obsession seemed to be a running theme for the sisters though because he and James often complained about how they couldn't keep up with either of their needs to be the best. Vernon was a good Christian, and he was shocked at Petunia's announcement that both Lily and James could do magic. However, his judgment was saved until after he got more information; you didn't sell to customers by alienating them after all! So, with a few demonstrations, he accepted it as just another odd thing some people could do, like being double jointed.

Speaking of Mr. Dursley, he was at this precise moment watering the shrubs under the window overlooking the street from the kitchen. Humming a little tune to himself, he was too busy focusing on making sure the plants were watered, but not too much, that he had not heard the car that pulled up to his side of the street and park. He had not listened to the engine turning off, or even the silent unpacking of the occupants in it.

He did, however, hear the honk of the car's horn, which jarred him from his peaceful zen that he almost fell backward onto his front lawn. Much to his amusement and dismay, Vernon was then dogpiled by a young boy and a hyper pink haired twenty-something, both little tykes giggling and hugging his large frame.

"Hello, Uncle Vernon!" Harry and Nym said in unison.

"Nym! Harry!" Andy scolded as she walked up next, grabbing both by the ear to pull them off. "We talked about this on the way here. What are we going to do with both of you?"

Ted was the final one who walked up, extending a hand to help Vernon off the ground. "So sorry, Vernon. I had thought they had learned their lesson by now."

"Nothing to worry about," Vernon grunted, thanking the stars above that his nice clothes hadn't gotten dirty. "Dudley was the one who told them to pile on me in greeting, so I should be used to it by now." He walked over to turn off the hose, still addressing his guests. "So, drive over here nice? I hope you didn't get caught up in that ridiculous traffic that's been around since our competitors sold drills to that one landscaping company. Bloody idiots, wanting to build on the side of a highway…"

"The drive was fine. We know some…alternate routes to get here," Andy smiled, still holding onto a thrashing Nym and a silently resigned Harry.

Vernon nodded and opened the front door a tad, poking his head inside. "Petunia! Petunia, can you come here a moment?" Seeing a rather round young boy about Harry's age walk into the hallway, he frowned. "Dudley? Where is your mother?"

"She practically ran upstairs when she saw the car pull up. You know how mom gets when she knows visitors are here." Dudley responded while taking a bite out of a slice of toast he brought with him.

With a nod and a chuckle, Mr. Dursley turned to the others still standing on his front porch. "Sorry. You know how Petunia gets." He then opened the door more addressed his son again. "Dudley! Come out and say hello to your cousins."

Dudley waddled over to the door and waved, still munching on toast. Harry and Nym waved back. The adults present rolled their eyes and walked in, making themselves comfortable in the living room as the kids went to the kitchen to grab some delicious food. Unlike the parents, they did not know the rules of 'wait for everyone to sit before eating food.' Well, Harry did. But Dudley had insisted, so he had no choice.

Soon, a dark-haired woman walked downstairs wearing a casual green and white plaid dress that fit her slim frame perfectly in a normal sort of way. She blushed when she saw Vernon smile at her with all the love and tenderness a happily married couple could show in mere expression. "Hello dears, sorry I took so long."

"Nothing to worry about," Andy walked over to Petunia and hugged her. "Your home looks as lovely as ever. Are those new drapes?"

As the ladies were talking about the home, the kids, and many other things regarding motherhood, the fathers had begun to speak of business and other fatherly things. This was common for the adults each visit; eventually, they would get bored of just talking and go walk over for food and coffee, or some other sort of delicious delight for conversation. And that is just what they did after five minutes of that: Petunia invited the guests into the kitchen and brought out a special coffee cake she only brought out for guests who were visiting. Known to all in the house, the cake in question always made Vernon secretly wish he had guests over more often.

Upon seeing the adults walk in, the two younger ones and the older Nym scurried upstairs into Dudley's room to continue their conversations. Harry had just been in the middle of telling Dudley about the many wonders of wizard world candy, and it was a topic Nym, and their cousin seemed to enjoy most of all.

"Is it really true that there's some sort of jelly beans that are every different flavor you can think of?" Dudley asked, mouth agape.

Nym nodded excitedly. "You bet! There's pineapple, and cinnamon, and black pepper…"

"And vomit," Harry shivered. His mind vividly remembered hearing stories of the dreaded, fabled bean. He never had one himself, but Uncle Lupin had sworn on the scar on his face that he and Uncle Sirius had tricked Harry's father into eating one.

Dudley gasped and stopped mid-step on the stairs, "Really? Well, I do still want to try that chocolate frog you told me about. Although I'm sure mum wouldn't be too happy about that one. She hates frogs; says they are icky and slimy and gross."

Nym opened her mouth to say something, a giggle rising in her throat as she started going towards her pocket. Harry, however, shook his head and frowned, making Nym's giggle turned into a growl of displeasure as she stopped.

They ended up in Dudley's room and continued their talks. Dudley showed off his computer and a few other things he had, which made Harry and Nym very impressed. Harry soon after gave his cousin the Entrepreneurial toy he had enchanted, which equally impressed Dudley. Nym tried her best to be polite, but she rapidly grew bored with the younger kids' interactions and excused herself downstairs for coffee cake and more coffee.

Without the older girl in the way, the two boys began their secret 'trade federation' business. Harry gave Dudley some wizarding things and some candy he had stashed while Dudley bargained with Muggle comics and other things he knew Harry would like. This was a usual thing for the two to do; both being of one world but somewhat being involved with the other meant they each had some research and development to make sure they didn't look, in Nym's own words, like 'uncultured swine.'

As Harry was haggling for a rather lovely computer game Dudley didn't want anymore, there was a screech and the sound of a few pots and pans landing on the floor from the kitchen. This was followed by the shouting of adults and an apologetic Nym as they seemed to run around the house.

"Backyard?" Harry asked, to which Dudley agreed.

The two boys wandered downstairs, stopping only once as a chocolate frog bounded past with a pink and purple spotted leopard right on its delicious heels. Without even batting an eye, they continued to the backyard and tuned out the hectic chase for the frog as Dudley pulled out his new Entrepreneurial toy. Soon, time seemed to pass as the most intense interpretation of Star Journey commenced, the mission against the evil half-snake people who fired green lightning from their eyes only ending when the mighty 'TedaTonks' had come outside to take Harry home. Ted seemed to sport a small bruise under his eye but didn't seem to mind too much.

With some heartfelt goodbyes and promises to never again bring wizard candy that would scare or endanger the occupants in the Dursley home, the Tonks and Harry finally left. And in no time at all, they all came back to the usual abode and went about the general nightly business. Nym went to read one of those books that hid under her bed, her whole body under the covers as she laid on her stomach and used a Lumos spell to light the page. Ted went to address the bruise under his eye and think of a story the Muggles would even believe, and Andy went to watch something on the television to relax before bed.

That left young Harry alone with his thoughts. And the comics he had gotten from Dudley. But he had read them already on the car home, so he quickly got bored of even his favorite of the bunch. It was then that Harry decided that he may as well grab a snack and then take a bath before bed.

As if on cue, Tipsy had walked around the house with a tray of food for the Masters, smiling wryly at Harry as she served him first. "Young Master Harry must be hungry. Crackers with meat and cheese?"

Harry smirked, mentally etching one point on the elf's end of their scoreboard they kept between each other before grabbing some food and walking upstairs to the sound of Tipsy giggling. Luckily, the bathroom door was open, so he didn't have to wait before prepping the bath and sliding into it. The water soothed him almost immediately, and his eyes closed in the pure bliss of silence and comfort.

The silence, however, was shattered as a yelp of surprise came from Nymphadora's room, followed by a screech of some sort of owl. The screeching continued as the owl seemed to be coming closer to the bathroom door, the sounds of Ted chasing after it reminding Harry of what had happened previously in the Dursley's home.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Andy yelled as she walked upstairs.

"An owl flew through my window!" Harry heard Nym respond.

"How did it get in?" Andy continued.

"It came through Nym's window," Ted responded, panting as he was out of breath.

Harry sat up, completely intrigued as to what was going on outside of the bathroom. The sound of something hitting the door startled the boy, which followed by a small thud as that same something hit the floor. A rustle later, a small envelope slipped through the door.

Eyeing the envelope, Harry dried off and wrapped the towel around himself before slowly making his way toward it. His hand grasped the letter, finding that the paper seemed old and the seal of four house crests emblazoned within a seal of expensive looking red wax. Harry knew, that moment, what the letter was.

He got into Hogwarts!


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and First The Rejection of Canon

Chapter Four:

Professor Statera

His happiness did not last, however, as he was forced to wait for someone to show up and take him to Diagon Alley for the supplies. It was traditional for the teachers to take a group of students and help them buy their school supplies, but for Harry, it was torture, as Hogwarts started in scarcely a month, and he had yet to receive a teacher!

Still, life does not stop when one wants it to, so he was forced to attend Primary School in the meantime. One day, upon arriving at home from the usual day of classes, and thanks to a surprising pickup from Ted, Harry was slightly confused to see a giant man walk from the front door of their home. However, upon seeing the man fly away on some sort of contraption, his confusion turned to annoyance as he ran indoors to interrogate Andy about the stranger. He asked many questions demanding answers, but Andy and Ted were very careful with how they answered them.

But Andy, if anyone in the household, understood his frustration; ever since she married Ted, she had been forced away from the magical world almost entirely thanks to being blacklisted by her own family and marked as a "blood traitor." _Almost_ is the keyword, as Nym brought back new texts from her time at Hogwarts. And since she still had the textbooks, it was easy for her to get Harry some education even if it was years out of date. With that said, however, her cousin seemed to be leaps and bounds ahead of even his mother was at this age…which was both amusing and worrisome to many degrees.

On the morning of the fourth day with no owls or letters or any magical persons appearing on their doorstep since that giant of a man, the household was quiet, and things had seemed to go back to normal. And as usual, Harry had just begun the usual morning ritual and was trying to keep quiet so he wouldn't wake the whole house while also attempting to beat Tipsy at preparing breakfast. He succeeded, much to Tipsy's dismay, and Harry soon sat down with a bowl of cereal with an open spell book in front of him.

Today, Harry had decided to work on a simple spell that was surprisingly hard to master: turning water into hot cocoa. At first glance, the boy thought it was stupid and wanted nothing to do with it. But recently, he had begun to develop a craving for the beverage. So much so that it almost drove him mad. Well...maybe not _mad_...but close to it. It also didn't help that the spell was harder to pull off than he bargained for, and so the quest to have hot chocolate whenever he wished filled his heart _with determination._

Just as he sat down in the kitchen, with a practice wand given to him by Nym, the book of spells he was reading, and a mug of cold water next to him for trial runs of the spell after he memorized it for the hundredth time, he heard a strange sound coming from the door. At first, it sounded like knocking, but that couldn't have been it; any sane person wouldn't be inviting themselves over so early in the morning. Shaking his head, Harry went back to try and read the spell and then focused on the mug.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

The loudness of the knocks was enough to jerk Harry out of focus. It also seemed to rouse the rest of the family; Cousin Teddy was the first to come down, almost rolling down the stairs while trying to put on a robe, so he wasn't just in his skivvies. Seeing Harry already downstairs made the older man jump a bit in surprise.

"You the one making that racket?" he asked quickly, narrowing his brow a little and walking towards the kitchen to where Harry was sitting. Harry replied by shaking his head quickly.

"Who could it be at this ungodly hour?" Andy asked with a hiss as she came down the stairs in a nightdress, followed by a yawning Nym who was dressed in pink pajamas. Another quick series of knocks seemed to respond to the question, making Harry stand up and follow his cousins near the door to where everyone had now congregated.

There was a pause. The family looked at each other and Ted decided to get closer to the door in a slow manner. By this point, Nym had stepped over to where Harry was standing and looked over at him, raising an eyebrow and motioning to the door as if to ask what was going on. He responded with a simple shrug.

Ted peeked out the peephole and recoiled a bit before giving a very loud exhale and opening the door. Standing on the porch was a boy a few years older than Harry with spiky golden blonde hair, a cheerful smile, and a face that held one ocean blue eye on the right while the other was horribly scarred on the left. He was dressed in a pair of casual gray slacks with a black leather belt, comfortable looking black shoes, and a navy-blue overcoat sitting on top of a black button up shirt that was accented with an orange tie. Overall, whoever he was, this stranger was dressed as if he was coming to a business meeting.

"Good Morning!" The blonde grinned and gave a little wave.

"Don't you 'good morning' me. Do you know what time it is?" Ted quickly pulled the blonde inside and closed the door behind him, locking it. "We haven't even had coffee yet! Andromeda almost had a heart attack when a representative from Hogwarts showed up a few days ago, and we were afraid-"

"Oh, come now Tonks." The blonde turned his back to the family as he hung his overcoat on the coat rack near the door. "You and your wife should know that we would not send someone to talk to you if they were not allowed to come to Hogwarts. Furthermore…"

He turned to face Ted but was greeted by Andy instead. Although 'greeted' is probably not the best word to describe her current mood; arms crossed, eyes narrowed…the older woman was staring at the houseguest like an angry mother ready to scold him severely.

"Zaine Statera…"

"Erm...Hello, Andromeda." Zaine gulped slightly as he gave a little bow, his demeanor from before shrinking a little in the presence of the pissed off woman. "Fancy weather this morning, eh? Could do without the-"

"Don't change the subject; you are late." Andy tapped her foot on the floor with a slight annoyance. Seeing her like this made Harry confused. What exactly did she mean by him being late? "But I suppose since you are here now, you may as well join us for breakfast." Andromeda finally huffed and started to walk to the kitchen

Zaine timidly followed Ted into the sitting room, taking a chair and looking relieved, while Ted had sat across from him. Upon both being seated, the two began to start a discussion while Andy coaxed Harry and Nym into following to the kitchen, telling them to help set up breakfast for the family plus a guest. Before they could reply, Andromeda was out of the kitchen to join the discussion going on in the other room with a cup of coffee for her, her husband, and their guest.

Harry, whose interest was piqued when their new guest had mentioned the giant his cousins had met, was curious to the identity of the young man who sat in their living room. The boy was apparently a magic user…the aura he gave off was similar to Harry's own in terms of magic. But this one was...odd. There was no other way to describe it. He was also curious as to what his cousins were discussing with…Zaine? Was that his name? That was also an odd name. And his attire was odd. His hair was odd. The scar on his eye was...brutally speaking not so odd, but still sort of odd due to the question Harry wanted to ask of how Zaine got it.

Based on first impressions alone, Harry dubbed Zaine as _odd_. Nothing more, and nothing less.

"Thank you for the coffee. Getting down here wasn't easy...," Zaine's voice made Harry blink back to reality, and the boy peeked into the sitting room to try and eavesdrop on the conversation. So far, all he could see was the stranger sipping on the coffee in a subtle, yet clearly satisfied way.

"I thought I told Hagrid to send McGonagall to assist Harry," Andy frowned. "Where is she? Not that I do not want you here, but..."

Zaine finished his sip and nodded. "I understand. And yes, McGonagall was going to come by and get young Harry, but I vouched to pick him up when she told me she had another prospective student that needed to be eased into the new world of magic they were being thrust into. She is going to meet us in Diagon Alley when we arrive."

"Between the two of you, you don't stick out as much," Ted huffed a chuckle as he sat back. "Makes perfect sense to me."

Andy gave her husband a look before she sighed a little. "At any rate, I'm sure that you will want to talk to Harry about all this."

"Shouldn't be too much trouble. From what I heard, you have been keeping him in good form and even let him practice magic to a degree." Zaine smiled and set the cup down, reclining back on the chair in which he was sitting. "Where is the tyke anyway?"

Harry felt a tinge of anger flare up inside of him. Who was this boy calling a tyke? Sure, he was a few years older than he was, but Zaine said that as if he was as old as his cousins. And there was no way that he was.

Somehow, Zaine had noticed Harry peeking in and stood up. Seeing him do that made Ted and Andy also turn, both looking a bit displeased. Sheepishly, Harry took a few steps into the sitting room.

"Harry, what did we tell you about eavesdropping?" Ted frowned more.

"S-Sorry...but I couldn't help overhearing what you all were talking about..." Harry muttered a bit, his eyes focusing on Ted and Andy before going back to Zaine, the feeling of anger from before becoming more of a nervous twitch in his left hand.

"Harry Potter...," Zaine smiled at him. "Gosh, how long has it been? At least eleven years?"

Harry's brow furrowed. The blonde was acting as if he knew him, and yet they had just met each other. "Pardon?"

"Look at how big you have grown!" Zaine walked over to Harry and looked him up to down. "You definitely got your father's charming good looks. But you also got your mom's chin and her eyes. Very good combo breaker there, bucko!"

"I-I'm sorry, what do you-"

"Last time I saw you was when you were about...thiiiiis high!" Zaine placed his hand near the ground as if to emphasize that Harry was really small when last they met. Which would have meant, logically that Harry would have been…

"Harry," Andy interrupted Harry's train of thought. "Zaine was a friend of your mother. And he was one of the ones who made sure that you were dropped off safely to us when your parents..."

The silence in the room was making everyone uncomfortable. And Zaine had undoubtedly noticed, as he cleared his throat and placed his hands behind his back. "Anyways, Harry, I'm sure you know why I am here today?"

Harry blinked as if to take this all in: this stranger, Zaine Statera by name, was somehow linked to his parents? He had to know more. His cousins were a wealth of information, yes, but he wanted to learn from someone who wouldn't sugarcoat the subject. They always told him the best parts of James and Lily, but it was secondhand considering neither Tonks actually _met_ Harry's parents. He had to ask more questions and get the answers he needed. "I…I have so many questions..."

"I am sure you do. But first, let us get formalities and all the other crap out of the way." Zaine stood next to the chair and leaned on the back end of it, his cup of coffee in hand as he took another sip. "My name is Zaine Statera. And yes, I am a wizard like you. And a damn good one too, if I don't mind tooting my own horn a little."

"What's up, Professor?" Nym had decided to make her appearance known finally, leaning on the entryway. In her hands was a pink box of some sort like one would fetch from a bakery.

Zaine was about to reply, but upon seeing the box, he pointed at it, and his entire focus seemed to shift to the object in earnest. "Where did you get that!?"

"It fell out of your overcoat. I didn't eat any of it, I promise!" Nym quickly passed the box over to him, looking a bit worried as Zaine put down his cup and opened the box to check inside while muttering to himself in another, unknown language. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, it is. Thank the stars!" Zaine breathed a huge, almost comical sigh of relief as he placed the box on the table nearby. "Hagrid baked you all a cake as an apology for the hassle with the letters and all. Poor guy would have been heartbroken if he heard it got ruined before you could all enjoy it."

Nym's eyes lit up, and Harry had to admit that his stomach was growling loudly as well. Upon seeing the youngest in a hungry state of mind, Andromeda got up. "Let's continue this over breakfast; you both will need the energy for later."

After a good round of sausages and eggs with toast and a few slices of the cake Hagrid had made Zaine bring with him, the group finally settled in their seats in quiet silence. Throughout their meal, Harry tried to ask about his parents but was stopped at every turn. Ted said that the topic was not fit for the table and would be a better conversation on the road to Diagon Alley, with Zaine agreeing as well.

Though, they did talk about other things, including how Zaine showed an interest in video games and some similar things that Harry did. Surprisingly, he also seemed to know Nym very well, and the two talked about Hogwarts and other things relating to school, the blonde congratulating Nym at one point for graduating.

Zaine went from _odd_ to _greatly intriguing_ in a manner of minutes.

From one of the pockets on Zaine's shirt, something began to make a ringing sound. "Blimey, is that the time?" He asked after digging in the pocket to pull out some sort of clock-looking device. "Sorry to cut the reunion short, but Harry and I have to go. McGonagall won't wait all day."

Ted and Andy were most helpful with getting Harry ready to be set off on his own into the wide world he was stepping into for the first official time. And Zaine also assisted when he could when it came to recommendations and other such baubles. Eventually, though, the two started to head out the door, and Zaine reached over to grab his overcoat when Andy stopped him. Harry couldn't hear what she was whispering to the blonde, but he could tell that it was something important. He heard Zaine utter a response softly as he took her hand and gave it a soft squeeze before turning to Ted with a firm handshake. He even gave a fist bump to Nym before finally waving goodbye.

"Adieu. Parting is such sweet sorrow, dear friends! As usual, you have all been wonderful hosts! Take care and be merry, Tonks!" With a final wave and a roguish grin, he grabbed Harry by the back of his shirt and dragged him out the door as it closed behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry Potter and First The Rejection of Canon

Chapter Five:

Shopping In a Magical World

As Zaine walked with young Harry down the road to the Leaky Cauldron, he began to talk about what the plan was: "Right, first stop is Gringotts." He paused as Harry chuckled to himself maniacally, not knowing that the young wizard was secretly looking forward to _finally_ having access to the Potter family vault and all its riches _._ Harry _was_ a young boy after all, and money is magical. Zaine looked slightly put out at hearing a young boy laugh like that. "I uh...have some business to take care of there. Hagrid would have done it, but after the mess with the owl, we all decided to have him take the day off and care for the poor dear."

"What deer?" Harry asked. "We have deer at Hogwarts now?"

"Huh? No, no we don't..." Zaine started before pausing as he seemed to get his thoughts together. "What?"

"You know like the animal?" Harry stated.

The professor inhaled slightly. "I wasn't referring to an actual real deer, Harry. I was referring to the adjective _dear_. The owl that flew into your house and was harassed by your fellow family members needed a small amount of medical attention, so we are having someone take care of it."

"Oh. Well, why didn't you say so?" Harry shrugged. This response prompted a sideways glance from the blonde. One that, if Harry looked back somewhere down the road in his life, would be responsible for every exasperated doings from not just Professor Zaine, but every other being associated with him.

The professor then pulled out a newspaper titled 'Daily Prophet.' He then took out an identical copy and handed one to Harry. Harry quickly noticed a few names came up surprisingly often; a few he didn't recognize that went by the names of Ezra Lightbane and Shine Azure, as well as some he did already know of such as Zaine Statera and the Minister of Magic. Speaking of the Minister, it also seemed that he had passed a few...radical laws...mostly involving some leniency on the Dark Arts and Dark Creatures. A popular move among the Pure-blood Faction, and not so much with...well everyone else it seems.

Seeing Zaine in the newspapers just added to Harry's curiosity toward the professor. By this point, Zaine Statera was, in Harry's head, as curious as even the great Albus Dumbledore.

As he was reading, a question popped into his head. "Professor Zaine, why do magicals keep magic a secret?" He never bothered his cousins about it, trusting the 'no, or no dessert' rule about letting people know about the mysteries of magic and the world surrounding it. However, he felt as if the professor was more open to small-talk than his cousins were.

"Well, lots of people think that non-magicals would demand a solution to all their problems by use of magic," Zaine began. "Personally, I don't think that would happen. Non-magicals aren't that weak-willed. Just different. We're all trying our best on this planet, but we do things differently. A lot of problems on both sides would be lessened if not solved completely. There really isn't a reason to fear the other, but some do anyway. Some even consider them lesser, but that's a bit too grown up for you." The professor then seemed to think for a bit and sighed heavily. "However, I know if someone _did_ try and unite us by revealing magic, then we'd all be buggered because a war would break out because the Pure-bloods would do something stupid. And we would be right back to square one. The square is war, Harry. The square is always war."

As they neared the Leaky Cauldron, Harry looked around and noticed the landmarks were all wrong. They hadn't been walking nearly as long as the nearby map said they were...bloody hell, the map said they were in a different city! After walking maybe five minutes!

"How'd we get here so quickly?" Harry mumbled to himself.

Zaine had heard him however and gave the boy a mischievous wink. "Well, magic _obviously_. I couldn't be bothered to take the train today. Too much to see and so little to do...wait a minute…"

Harry disregard the professor as he immediately noticed the Muggle-Repelling Wards, as in many of them, and snorted, thinking 'Yeah, obviously any mention of magic wouldn't be from the drunken ramblings of someone having downed a pint or twelve.' However, when the duo walked in, he had to rescind his statement. Because it was amazing!

Well, not the run down looking pub, nor the bloody centuries out of style fashion sense or the ambient magic in the air. No, it was the gentleman sitting quietly in a corner mixing his coffee. Wandlessly. Reading 'A Brief History of Time' by Stephen Hawking!

He squealed and ran up to the man, and began ranting at him:

"Bloody hell I never thought I'd see another wizard with a brain! I mean here I am minding my own business and I see someone reading a book written by a muggle scientist explaining how the universe could work, doing wandless magic! No one is supposed to be capable of that, _Dumbledore_ isn't capable of that, oh and what's your name mine's Harry?" He said, extremely excited. Obviously.

The man chuckled nervously as Zaine was heard giving a snort into a pint of rootbeer he just ordered. Harry mentally questioned why he would order something non-alcoholic in a bar of all places, but the man in front of him took every bit of focus his mind ever had. "Um," the man started, "Well I only caught bits of it...but I don't think your guardian would like your language, little one. My name is Simon Amodyn. And if I can ask, would you keep what you've noticed quiet? The Minister seems like a nice gentleman, but...well I'd like to keep what we talked about between us."

Zaine then walked up and sighed, a mustache of foam on his upper lip. Christ, did he drink that all in only a few seconds? "Simon, please don't underestimate people. Someone with a decent grasp of magic will see through these weak protections. And please keep the time travel to a minimum?" He finished while frowning at the man, who Harry suddenly noticed had gone a tiny bit pale at the sight of the blonde. "You know my associates in the ministry and the Department of Time Travel don't appreciate all the paperwork you keep sending their way."

Harry couldn't hold it in anymore but was at least mindful to keep his hysteria to a minimum. "Simon Amodyn?!" He hissed, eyes as wide as he could manage. "As in the man who invented the Hour Reversal Charm!?" That was an obscure piece of information he had trouble finding…

The man identified as Simon, who had been sipping on his coffee, coughed into his cup. "Bloo-er, blimey kid how'd you know?"

Harry deadpanned. "It was in my cousin's books that she… 'borrowed' from Hogwarts. Some of the older ones that wouldn't be missed."

Simon sighed. "I thought I removed all mention of me, but since it was in an old Hogwarts book, it must have been an early version I missed. I'll remember it for next time though." He took out a notebook and scribbled something inside. Harry figured it must have been an actual reminder...he hoped he didn't end up forgetting this conversation.

The notebook slammed shut, and Simon stood up. "Well I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm expected in Rome about two thousand years ago...or was it I'm expected on Thessia three hundred years to be and sideways?" With a confused look on his face, he vanished without a sound.

Harry was stunned. Speechless. This was a level of magic beyond anything that could be possible for a wizard. Zaine, however, looked at his watch, as if this was nothing new in his everyday life. "Oh bugger, we're late. Come on Harry, we need to be at Gringotts...now."

He grabbed Harry's shoulder, and they both quietly shuffled out of the pub. Upon leaving, they missed a man in a turban frowning at the door, where _someone_ should have come in. Zaine had noticed him and snickered to himself for a second before forcing it down.

After a short jaunt down an alleyway, the two approached the bank. Harry meanwhile was still in a trance, barely registering his surroundings as the two went down another strange and abnormal alley until they had approached the destination of their visit.

"Harry," Zaine's voice broke through the haze he was in, and Harry soon realized that his surroundings had suddenly changed…again. He nodded to tell Zaine he was listening and found himself staring at a bronze plaque with engraved words on it.

"See that warning, Harry?"

He did indeed.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"What you don't see is the geas runes behind it. Anyone whom so much as attempts at stealing from the vaults are charged one thousand galleons for every knuts worth stolen. What you 'find' is dishonor in the form of crippling debt that can only be worked off by working in the goblin owned mines, underneath the floors of the bank."

 _'Note to self_ ,' Harry thought, _'Don't steal from goblins..._ '

They walked past some of the very goblins mentioned earlier, and Harry hated the fact they just looked like rather short, wrinkly, knife eared people with long fingers and feet. No green skin anywhere. The nerve of the world not to cater to his childish whims by making goblins look like the goblins he desired… Perhaps another time and place...Wait, what was he just thinking now? Or did Professor Zaine just say that and he thought he heard it? Or...

They approached a teller, and Harry quickly asked how versed they were in the mundane world. To which, the goblin smirked. "The Potter's were well versed indeed, as are most so-called 'Half-bloods' and Muggle-borns. We do try and keep this secret as to keep the...undesirables..."

He looked over and drew their attention to a black-haired family demanding to be served before the 'mud-bloods.' Well, the father was, the mother seemed rather apologetic, if not hiding it behind arrogance. The daughter just looked somewhat embarrassed.

"Ahem, yes the _undesirables_ from finding out they are among the poorest families in Britain. All of Britain. They think they have gold to throw around, but really are just throwing around numbers. Bribes circulate so often we've taken to just letting them think the gold is changing hands when really we just hire a Leprechaun to make fake gold and circulate that. We keep all the _real gold_ in more...goblin friendly vaults. Like the Potter's."

Zaine, hearing this, tightened his smile. IT appeared his thoughts were running wild. Or at least they ran exasperated. But it couldn't be all bad, could it? It wasn't as if the Potter clan suddenly owned twenty percent of all Magical Britain.

Then the goblin continued, hands pressed together. "You see, your family learned that non-magical money was worth more than the gold we magicals folk use and asked the goblins to liaison the trades between the two worlds to make as much money as possible."

"No…" Zaine whispered.

"Of course, Lord Thule Potter, some several hundred years ago, also realized that since gold is a flexible currency and it's worth is what economists assigned to it, he asked that instead of material wealth, the Potter's _had_ to have _immaterial_ wealth."

"No, no, no…" The blonde began to sweat.

"So now, because the Potter's told us to keep as much as twenty percent of what they earn, and our...ahem...greedy nature...the Potter's own approximately forty-five percent of Magical Britain at this point in time and twenty percent of non-magical Britain."

Professor Zaine seemed decidedly fine, though he did make a small whining noise sounding of pure rage and despair and his left eye seemed to flicker softly between the ocean blue it is known for and a newfound blood red. On the inside, however, the young man body seemed to scream internally about ruined plans and was mentally curling into a ball deep in the recesses of his mind.

The goblin called over his assistant to take the duo down to the boy's trust vault. As soon as the two had left, the Goblin pulled out a bag of gold and note that read: 'Here are a hundred gold coins, tell Zaine the Potter boy is absurdly rich.' The Goblin chucked to himself. Oh, _some_ of what he said was true. Lord Thule Potter _did_ want immaterial wealth over coinage. And the Goblins are greedy enough to make that twenty percent into a _significant_ amount. But Harry Potter is no land tycoon, just a _near_ absurdly wealthy young boy.

He giggled to himself as the Goblin who was serving the black haired family pulled put a bag of leprechaun gold and handed it to the father who then proceeded to storm out of the bank just as the Minister walked in with a bag of gold and the black-haired father did not have the gold anymore. Most of the idiot Pure-Blood vaults are empty; magical Britain's economy was practically dead. It's literally by the grace of the new bloods who bring in money every year that Gringotts stayed afloat. Britan's magical citizens were either an underpaid ministry worker, a small business owner who takes repeated loans from us, or an illegal business owner in Knockturn Alley. All gold out of the bank was indeed Leprechaun gold, and as thanks for helping them keep the economy afloat, and the branch not _dead_ , Gringotts helped those poor new bloods to get out of the country with a nice cushy desk job at one of their other offices at half the pay any other countries' citizen would accept!

Even when the Goblins were helping people, it seemed they still scammed them out of their money.

The entire trip down a narrow passage, which led into a large cavern, Harry and the goblin conversed in the ways of economics while Professor Zaine muttered in and out of English and a strange unknown language about destabilization and how he really needed a Poppy Seed Muffin and a warm chocolate milk of glass…whatever that meant. He was probably missing some stuff. The Goblin escorting them introduced himself as Griphook as they hopped into a mine cart which promptly exploded into action, pulling fifty miles an hour easily. Harry screaming all the while.

Zaine joined him as a cover for letting out his despair at the ridiculousness of the Potter fortune.

A short while later the mine cart slowed to a stop, and Griphook waved one of his hands toward the vault in question before the trio stepped off. "Here we are, Mr. Potter."

Following the motion, Harry cast his gaze on a very elaborate looking vault and experienced what could be called a wave of apprehension. On the trip down, he never once gave a thought about how much wealth would _actually_ be in the vault or about how his ancestors had cleverly made it to where the Potter name was now synonymous with the most powerful families in Britain. However, now that they were here and Griphook was not divulging in talks of economics and power, Harry's mind was left to wander.

"Alright, let's get this over with," Zaine piped up from the rear. "Could you open the door for us? We are in a bit of a hurry."

The goblin looked up at the blonde with a typical look of boredom that was usually on a Gringotts' worker, hand outstretched, "The key?"

Zaine went into a pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a normal looking key, which he handed to the goblin. The goblin bowed in thanks and turned to the door again, using the key to open the lock and push it open. Beyond the door sat gold and other assortments of currency and priceless trinkets that summed to millions, if not more. The entire room seemed to shine like El Dorado, and to young Harry, it may as well have been.

"This all belongs to me? All of it?" Harry asked in awe.

"Unfortunately," Zaine sighed heavily as he sat down back in the cart, arms crossed. Harry took his time in looking around at everything, almost drooling over the idea that he had so much power and wealth that would last for decades. But as he was about to grab hold of a sack of gold coins, he stopped. He observed how heavy it was, how it shined, and how much was in the bag, to begin with. He thought about how this was all his, yet he also felt an emptiness in the pit of his stomach.

"Everything alright, sir?" Griphook asked as he poked his head in.

"Yes, sorry." Harry blinked and nodded, grabbing a few small bags of random currency before heading out. "I will only take a little out for now. It would be dumb to take all of it and waste it all in a day or so."

Griphook returned the nod and hopped in the cart as Professor Zaine seemed to give a huge sigh of relief, "Any other stops today?"

Zaine sat forward a little and cleared his throat. "As a matter of fact, I do have business with a certain vault that needs to be taken care of. It's…Hogwarts matters if you catch my drift."

The goblin frowned before starting the cart's movements again. Harry had no idea why, but it seemed that the next vault in question had a sort of curious tug at the back of his head. The way the goblin was acting…this must have been very important. Plus, Zaine seemed to not be too thrilled on grabbing whatever was in there and didn't disclose what the business was in front of Harry either, so it must have been very, _very_ important.

Either way, it did not matter since the ride there did not last as long as the first. The atmosphere had indeed changed, though; this vault seemed to be stuck in some dark chasm where the only source of light was a lantern that Griphook had next to him.

"Stay here," Griphook commanded as he hopped out and walked on an unseen catwalk of stone to the cave wall on their right side. Using one of its clawed fingers, the goblin traced a symbol through a series of cracks and stood back. Soon, the wall seemed to shimmer before an entrance that looked more like a cavernous maw appeared as the wall folded and twisted on itself.

Harry looked back at his companion to possibly ask about what exactly they were doing there and maybe get some sort of answer but realized a little too late that Zaine was nowhere next to him. It turned out that the blonde had hopped out and was standing with Griphook, a soft blue light emanating from his right arm.

No…not from his arm. That would be silly, Harry realized. He must be seeing things. Why would an arm glow at all? No, it must be a trick of the light. Harry took off his glasses and rubbed them to clean them of what _must_ be causing him to be seeing things. To meet _two_ wizards capable of wandless magic was literally impossible. When he put his glasses back on, he sighed in relief as the Professor's arm was not glowing.

The two of them seemed to be whispering about something Harry could not hear. Harry craned his hearing as much as it could go. He did not want to be a snoop, but the boy was ever so curious about whatever would be picked up in a secret vault like this. But just as he caught an inkling regarding someone named 'Shine,' Zaine had walked ahead of Griphook into the vault room. And just as quickly, the blonde was walking back to the cart with the goblin bringing up the rear once it closed the door and locked it.

* * *

"Now that the business at the bank is done let's grab your things!" Zaine chirped, acting as if the whole seriousness with the last vault the duo visited never happened. "How about we start with your robes?"

A groan left Harry as the word 'robes' hit his ears.

"Oh, come on, they aren't as bad as you think they are. I had to deal with them when I was your age." Zaine rolled his eyes and walked toward a shop, not noticing as the boy stopped and processed what the blonde had said.

Entering the robe shop was less magical than Harry expected, though at this point it was a nice refresher from the in-your-face magical world. The area looked like a modern-day clothing shop, complete with mannequins dressed in the latest fashions and changing rooms for those needing some privacy. Even the lady running the shop seemed normal enough to where a non-magical wouldn't suspect any sort of magical mischief happening here.

"Hello dearie. Are you here for a robe fitting?" She asked as she walked up, smiling warmly in a business manner.

"Yep! It's his first time going to Hogwarts," Zaine spoke up as he checked out a tie over in the corner of the room. "Could you suit him up with a basic robe and anything else he may need, Ms. Malkin?"

The woman seemed to beam at the sound of the news. "Oh goodness, I remember when I first went to school. Don't worry, sir, your son will be in good hands!"

Both Harry and Zaine opened their mouths to tell her that they were not related, but she had left the front of the shop before they could even utter a word. Zaine gave a shrug as he went back to looking around, leaving Harry standing there unsure about what to do besides stand there awkwardly.

Soon enough, however, Ms. Malkin returned with her hands wringing together and a tape measure floating around her head as if it was in orbit. And before Harry could realize what was happening, the object had spotted him and was measuring everything from his height to the length of his nose.

"Hmm…I see…Yes, that size should do…" The woman mused to herself as she circled around Harry, watching the tape measure with eyes like a hawk.

"I-I'm sorry, but is this really necessary?" Harry asked.

"Course it is kiddo. We have to make sure everything is perfect the first time! That way you don't have to come back for another one until you grow a bit between now and you're a fourth year." Zaine smirked as he walked past, motioning to the door with his thumb. " _I_ am gonna go grab a few more of your things while you are busy here, be back soon."

Harry watched as Zaine left and tried to ignore the measuring tape as it finished and flew back into the woman's pocket. However, his attention turned to the sound of the door opening, hoping Zaine had come back to help assist with the slightly awkward situation. However, a girl about Harry's age bounced into the shop instead.

The girl was a little shorter than Harry but looked around the same age. She was dressed in a very plain yet still fashionable plaid dress that contrasted with the waist length raven black hair that trailed behind her, the bangs cut just above the eyes so they wouldn't be in the way. As she entered the shop with a smile of excitement, she almost ran into Harry and the shop owner as her gaze caught on a fancy ebony robe.

"Oops! Sorry, didn't see you there," the girl said with a smile as bright as her hazel eyes. Malkin meanwhile didn't even look up from her work as she greeted the new customer. "Ms. Cura, please do not run over my paying customers. Now, what can I do for you today? You finally going to buy those robes on your tab?"

"Yep! I am finally going to Hogwarts, so I gotta buy them now whether I want to or not," she shrugged with a giggle.

Harry's attention shifted even more to her. "You going there too?"

The girl extended her hand after she nodded, grinning even wider, "Polina Cura."

As Harry went to return the greeting, the shop owner got in the way, her gaze falling on Polina. "Alright, just like all the other fittings. Stand next to the boy here, and we can begin."

Polina rolled her eyes and stood next to Harry with a smirk. "She insists on checking your measurements _every time_ you want to buy something. Honestly, I don't know why she gets so ruffled about it."

"I am standing right here, you know," Madam Malkin rolled her eyes in return. "People's measurements change all the time, especially for us magic users. I mean look what happened to your poor uncle, for Merlin's sake."

For some reason, the mention of her uncle put a damper on Polina's happy demeanor, even though she tried not to show it while the shop owner continued to talk to her. It wasn't until the owner left to grab some clothes for them both to try on that Polina finally spoke again. "I never actually got your name before, what did you say it was?"

"Harry Potter," Harry answered.

Polina's eyes widened, and the whites of her eyes seemed to glow. " _The_ Harry Potter? Oh. Em. Ge! I _cannot_ believe I'm talking to you right now! You have, like, _zero_ idea how amazing this is!"

Harry blushed a crimson red as the girl he had just met was fangirling over just being in his presence. This was…new…

"Sorry! Sorry, this is just…huge for me." Polina fanned herself a little. "You are a celebrity _no one_ has ever met, and here I am as possibly _the first_ to even talk to you."

"Well, you aren't exactly the first…" Harry looked back to where the shop owner went, hoping she had the powers of telepathy.

"What? Who beat me to it!?" Polina placed her hands on her hips, looking incredibly annoyed in an instant, which made poor Harry a tad nervous. "Who has the balls?"

Harry decided to change the subject, "So um…you said you were a first year as well?"

Polina's mood immediately changed, back to normal as quickly as she had shifted before. "Mhm. I can't wait. I hope I get to be in Slytherin house; I mean, any House would be amaze-balls. But Ravenclaw or Slytherin would fit me the best. Which house do you think you'll be?"

"I'll just let the chips fall where they will," Harry stated matter-of-factly. "I like to be surprised when it comes to things like this."

She smiled, "You sound just like my uncle; he works at Hogwarts as a Professor for the Extra Curricular activities some students want to take and need some oversight. So I'm sure you will meet him eventually."

Harry suddenly got very curious for the hundredth time today. Anything he could learn about the people who worked at Hogwarts was a huge plus for getting to the top as quickly as possible, education wise of course. He was about to ask more on her uncle when Madam Malkin shuffled in.

"Here," she said to Polina first after handing the girl a robe. "Try this on and test it around the shop."

Polina studied the robe in the mirror nearby as Harry was helped into his attire. "This looks lovely as always! Thank you so much!"

Malkin nodded wearily. "Right. Now, about that fee…"

The raven-haired girl turned to address the shopkeeper, but her eyes suddenly widened to the point of possibly bulging out of their sockets. Following her gaze, Harry noticed that her attention was homed in on a pale boy with platinum blonde hair that was walking past the shop. When he was out of sight, Polina turned with a slight curtsey, told Harry how nice it was to meet him while also wishing the shop owner a good day, before sprinting out of the shop after him. As Polina flung the door open, she almost bumped into Professor Statera as he trudged in, the older boy almost unrecognizable from all the packages he carried blocking his view. He teetered a bit from the sudden surprise of the door, just missing the sight of Polina turning down an alleyway as she apologized to whoever she bumped into.

"Geez, kids today…" Zaine grumbled as he set the parcels down on a waiting chair. "You all done in here, Harry?"

"Yeah. Turns out I also made a new friend today," Harry nodded.

"Really? That's good! Knowing someone when you get to school makes things a lot easier on the whole transition thing. Plus, it helps with school work and-"

Madam Malkin cut Zaine off, distress on her face as she held up a few receipts up close to his face. The professor sighed heavily as he got out the appropriate currency, muttering about something in the same unknown language Harry heard earlier until after they were out of the shop.

The duo still had a few things to grab, including basic potions materials and other things Harry would need for other classes, like alchemy. To Harry's delight, Zaine was kind enough to let him buy a few other things he personally wanted to grab without asking if he really needed it or not.

"It's your money, kid." Zaine had shrugged when Harry wanted some unicorn horns and a few other tidbits of wonder in the Apothecary. "Just don't waste what you grabbed before the year is over."

It was a few hours after their arrival when Harry and Zaine had decided to take a break and grab a snack; Harry had vouched for chocolate and strawberry ice cream while Zaine had grabbed a… _unique_ version of Rocky Road. As they sat and played a game of people watching (apparently one of Zaine's favorite hobbies), Harry had unloaded every question he could about the Wizarding World he needed assistance with. Zaine had been very helpful answering all that he could and giving insight to certain things.

"Professor Statera?" Harry pointed to the family they had seen in Gringotts, remembering what Griphook had said about them. For some reason, he also had an inkling of wonder as to what happened to the pale boy from earlier but had a feeling that Polina was close by wherever he was. "Who exactly are they?"

"Them? Oh, those are the Parkinsons," Zaine snorted. "Pompous windbags, if you want my opinion. Well…the wife and kid aren't…but the husband is. Don't tell anyone I said that, though."

Harry watched them and concluded that the professor was probably right.

The Professor continued, "A lot of Pure-bloods, you will find, are just an odd bunch. They feel like they rule the wizarding world and yet they are as endangered as a Burmese Tiger. I'm not the right person to talk about the subject though, just my own opinion."

Finishing his ice cream cone, Zaine stood up and stretched, reaching his arms up to the sky before cracking his neck. "Right! Last bit of business is your wand. That part is always fun."

"Where would we go for that?" Harry asked as he threw the rest of his away.

"I know the perfect place," Zaine responded, pointing to a dingy little shop nearby.

Harry had to admit that he was very interested in the wand selection process. The choosing of a wand was said to be more like a ceremony, according to the books. The mere idea that some higher power was at work in the choosing of every wand given to every child and adult in the wizarding world was more vexing than the idea of finding one he would use for the rest of his life. Wands are fragile things made of wood, and people grow and change. It's easy to _say_ wands are forever, but it's very unlikely. It was still awesome to get a wand though, so when the two had walked up to a dingy little shop, Harry was a bit more excited than he had anticipated.

Zaine must have noticed because the professor was smirking as he opened the door for Harry to enter once they arrived. "Welcome to the shop of Mr. Ollivander, the maker of the finest wands since 382 B.C. The man may be a bit strange, but he is the best."

The place was rather dusty, to say the least. It was narrow and shabby, with a single window to look out of. To Harry, the store felt like one of those old-fashioned libraries where even whispering would ruin the atmosphere. But instead of books and other pieces to read, every nook and cranny was packed with wands and boxes of all sizes and shapes from floor to ceiling. Even the staircase leading upstairs was covered.

At the moment, it seemed as if no one was in to assist them.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice echoed in the shop as a man suddenly emerged as if from nowhere. Harry jumped, making Zaine snicker from his spot on one of the spindly waiting chairs near the door.

Standing next to Harry, in extremely close proximity was an old man, his eyes shining with a twinkle of one who was wise but also full of mischief.

"Mr. Potter. Yes, I have been expecting you for some time now." Mr. Ollivander smiled, "It seems like only yesterday that your parents were each buying their own wands. Your mother's wand, for example, was ten and a quarter inches long and was made of willow. Nice and swishy, perfect for charm work."

Harry scooted a bit, so he and Mr. Ollivander had some personal space. The professor had been right, this was an _odd_ man.

"Now, we must not waste any time." Ollivander quickly turned and paced to the wall behind his desk, looking at every box with a keen eye. He took one down and took a half step to turn, but then stopped as he muttered to himself and placed it back. He hesitated a bit more at a few others before finally turning around to face Harry again.

But before he addressed Harry, the man smiled wider as he nodded to the chair near the door. "Zaine Statera! It has been a few months since last I saw you. Bringing another upcoming wizard to find their destiny?"

"Well, you know how this whole thing works." Zaine smiled at the older man, not noticing Harry staring at him oddly after that last statement.

"I am rather glad that the last one got a wand of Ilex Holly." The old man sighed as if fondly remembering that day as if it had happened an hour before. "Traditionally protective, but it's perfect for what the wielder told me they wish to accomplish. And your own wand, Spruce, was the perfect fit; never saw a happier wand of that make."

Zaine shrugged nonchalantly as Ollivander's focus went back to Harry, handing him the box. "The secret to a wand is that it has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, the heartstrings of dragons…just to name a few. And as none of those ingredients are ever the same, no two Ollivander wands are replicas or exact copies. This means that if you, say, are destined to have a wand of Spruce like Mr. Statera, it will not work the same as his wand."

Harry nodded, understanding quickly. Although the books he read were a wealth of information about spells, there was little to nothing about the wands themselves.

"Of course, since the wands are not the same, you also cannot use another wizard's wand as your own. If you did, it would be unresponsive and erratic."

"Because the wand chooses its master, right?" Harry asked.

Mr. Ollivander's eyes gleamed in joy. "Yes. Precisely." He handed the box to Harry and opened it for him, revealing a wand inside. "Beech-wood and dragon's heart-string, nine inches."

Harry took the wand out and examined it, looking to the old man for guidance on what to do next, almost chuckling to himself about how cliché this all was.

"You have to wave it around," Ollivander said from his place in the chair, giving his hand a motion to emphasize his comment. "We are not going to immediately know if the wand is perfect or not by some sort of…psychic link."

Zaine responded with a small cough to what the older gentleman had said as Harry got into a traditional spellcasting position. As he was about to wave the wand, Mr. Ollivander snatched it quickly and put it in the box. "No…No not this one. Here, try this: Maple and phoenix feather."

Harry was confused as this completely contradicted what he was just told about Ollivander not having some sort of physic link, but he shrugged it off as his eccentricity and gave the new wand a wave. This time Harry wished Ollivander had stopped him. After waving it once in a traditional style, a shelf behind him broke, and boxes of wands tumbled to the floor.

"Ah. Definitely not," the old man shook his head and grabbed another box as if events like this happened every day. Which, they probably did. "Ebony and unicorn hair, perhaps?" Harry hesitantly took the wand and gave it a small flick. The chair Zaine had been sitting in suddenly broke out from under the professor, making him yelp with surprise as he tumbled to the floor.

Mr. Ollivander threw the wand back into the box, a look of amusement on his face. "You are a tricky customer, Mr. Potter. But do not fret; by the end of the day, we shall find you a wand, yet!"

With that, Ollivander walked to the back of his shop under the staircase. He began to root through a few boxes until he suddenly stopped. He was intently staring at a particularly gray and black ancient looking box, brow furrowed as he mumbled to himself. Finally, the old man came back and held it for Harry to open himself.

Without any words exchanged between the two, Harry opened the box and looked inside to see a wand made of Holly wood. He carefully took the wand out and examined it before giving the wand one solid wave. At first, nothing happened.

But then a rush of warmth seemed to surge through his body, and what looked like a beam of heavenly light lit up the shop as it emitted from his spot in the middle of the room. And at that moment, Harry thought he caught a glimpse of something... _otherworldly_. But as soon as he saw it, the vision was gone and he was back in the wand shop with a very proud looking Ollivander smiling at him while Zaine clapped from his spot on the floor, his eye seeming to glow in the darker light of the corner the room he was in and a smile on his face that looked more satisfied and sinister than he may have intended.

Oh yes, there may actually be something in the universe responsible for all the fantastical things like wand picking, just as young Harry thought. And it was more fantastical than his untrained mind could ever imagine. Of course, Harry wouldn't remember this strange event for years to come.

"Curious…how very curious…" The wandmaker muttered loudly, stroking his chin.

Harry blinked as he realized that he had been lost in his thoughts for what seemed like hours, but was more like seconds. "I'm sorry, but what is?"

"First, there is the fact that your wand is a strange combination: holly and phoenix feather. Usually very hard to find a user that matches this one. But the most curious thing is that I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every. Single. Wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave another feather — just _one_ other. And unfortunately, it seems fate has chosen this wand for you since its brother- why, its brother gave you that scar."

Mr. Ollivander then wrapped the wand up for Harry, unable to say another word on the subject.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry Potter and First The Rejection of Canon

Chapter Six:

Our Journey Begins At Platform Nine and ¾

Zaine had pulled his pocket watch out to check how they were doing on time once they had left Ollivander's and frowned deeply. It seemed that their adventures in Diagon Alley had taken longer than expected, and now the two were hurrying to the train station where young Harry was going to finally embark on his way to the rest of his life.

"Wait a minute, Zaine!" Harry had called out as the blonde paced a few steps ahead of him with surprisingly long strides. "I think I forgot something on my list!"

"Already handled it!" Zaine had called back, paying attention to the path he was blazing for them out of Diagon Alley.

"But what about my books on Transfiguration?" Indeed, Harry had none.

The professor stopped as if thinking for a split second. "Bugger!" With a turn that made his overcoat majestically flutter in the breeze, he ran over to pick Harry up by the collar and _moved_ to Flourish and Blotts.

Hearing giggles from the various muck abouters in the Alley, Harry sighed; really, this was _all_ Zaine's fault. Having resigned himself to his fate, he relaxed and allowed himself to be put down when Zaine finally decided to.

"We made it!" Zaine shouted.

Harry _wanted_ to raise a fuss about having only been dragged a few seconds, but compared to the five-minute walk to goddamn _London,_ a few seconds for a mile or so didn't seem that impressive.

He still wanted to learn that magic, though.

Harry straightened out his robes and entered the book shop. But when Zaine looked over to him and frowned as if he knew what he was thinking, Harry hid his desires quickly.

"Go ahead and look around Harry, I'll get the books." The professor said quickly, briskly walking off.

Alone in the store, Harry began to wander. Picking out books at random, looking at them, becoming confused, putting the books back, repeat. This continued until he ran into a cliché. Specifically, he had reached for _Hogwarts: A History_ and his hand brushed another. Using his ample powers of observation, he noticed an arm attached to the hand, and a body attached to the arm. More specifically, it was the body of an eleven-year-old girl with bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

To say it was love at first sight would be wrong. They are eleven, calm down.

Harry spoke first. "Sorry, I was just browsing. My guide was set to buy my books 'cause we are a little late; my birthday is the day you send an acceptance letter, so we are rushing." He withdrew his hand sheepishly.

The girl smiled. "I know how you feel. My letter came after school was supposed to start for me last year. I'll be twelve soon." She looked down at her feet, which started to swirl in place. "I've got all my things, I just wanted a last look around. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

"Nice to meet you," Harry said. "I'm Harry Potter."

The girl's eyes sparkled, a look on her face similar to that other girl Harry had met back at the robe shop. "Really?! I've read about you in a few of my books, well not you specifically but the recent war with You-Know-Who who isn't really named, and the only information on you is how old you were when it happened, and what you looked like before and after! Oh I can't believe how lucky I am, would you mind answering some questions I have about some of the things mentioned about you?"

Harry was dazed, not used to this kind of attention on this particularly enthusiastic level. "Er...sure?" He offered lamely.

A sudden case of snickering was heard behind one of the bookshelves, and Zaine turned the corner soon after with a set of books, saving Harry from his fate. He was also accompanied by a tall and severe-looking woman with her black hair tied into a tight bun.

Zaine looked down at Harry and Hermione with a sly grin. "Well _one_ of these two is mine, and I believe the other is _yours_ , Professor McGonagall. Which one is which I wonder? Oh, it's so hard to tell the younger ones apart sometimes."

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Professor Zaine, you _know_ we often do this by gender, yes? And we'd best be off, it's getting close to departure."

Zaine for the hundredth time that day looked at his pocket watch. "Hm. You are right it seems. I'll take the more nervous one." He then extended his hand to the perfect distance between both new students. Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Harry eventually rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatingly as he took the Professor's hand while Hermione giggled at the display.

"I guess I'm going with the one with the bad hair." Harry shot back almost on instinct, as he glared up at the professor.

The blonde barked out a laugh and with his right hand messed with Harry's hair. "Look who's talking?" He pulled Harry towards the door after placing the books in the boy's arms. "Say goodbye to your fellow first year and girlfriend, Mr. Potter!"

With a pop and a sound of protest from Harry, they landed in an alleyway close to the train station. Zaine finally let go of Harry, nonchalantly stating that he had already taken care of Harry's other things and had them sent along to the train. Harry hoped Professor Zaine was telling the truth, but he could do nothing else but trust him and his word.

So off they went until their trail ended at King's Cross Station. It was then that Harry realized that this was indeed the end of his original, somewhat normal life he knew. This knowledge also made the butterflies he felt earlier at Gringotts return in the pit of Harry's stomach.

Zaine meanwhile didn't notice Harry's lingering worry, his hand in one pocket of his overcoat to grab a few items of interest. "Right, here is your ticket. Now, don't worry about how to get on the train. I'll be going as well, so just follow my lead okay?"

Harry took the ticket and nodded. "Right, let me cast the feather-light charm on my luggage real quick, so it's easier to carry."

The professor blinked before giving Harry a smirk, "I forget that you do know a few things about the wizarding world even though you don't live it one hundred percent."

"You shouldn't. I am very capable of handling a few high-level spells…" Harry huffed, obviously a little offended. He did not mention those 'high-level spells' were simple household maintenance charms.

Zaine held up a hand, "I meant no disrespect. It is just…it has been a few years since I helped leave you in the Tonks' care. You do not know how happy we are that you are doing well and are ready for Hogwarts in more ways than you can imagine."

"We?" Harry asked, an eyebrow raised.

But Zaine never answered his question, and soon the two were continuing through the station. Why did the Professor use that term when it was just him delivering Harry to Hogwarts? Where there others that cared about Harry's well-being enough to try and keep an eye on him?

The boy rolled his eyes, so many more questions had arisen that it was giving him a headache. He decided to take a look at the ticket he was holding and snorted when he saw the number. "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? What is it, _between_ platforms nine and ten…"

He waited for Zaine to respond, but heard nothing. And when he looked up, he didn't see the professor anywhere.

'Great,' Harry thought to himself, ' _I take my eyes away for one second, and now I am stuck in a crowded train station, without any knowledge of where to go or someone to help me get there. Whatever shall I do? I wish Nym would have told me what to do instead of whispering "Run" to me.'_

He sat down at a bench and watched the people pass by. Eventually, Professor Zaine would come back to look for him. And if that didn't happen, Harry supposed he would figure out where to go thanks to any other Hogwarts bound witch or wizard. Since he was waiting, Harry decided to count how much money he had left. And when that was done, he pulled a few pranks on a couple of passersby and snickered at their responses.

After a few minutes of this, Harry soon noticed a small group of redheads walking together with carts full of parcels and suitcases. They looked like a family, but Harry did not want to assume based on first appearances. Well…until the older woman began to rub a smudge of dirt off one of the boys' nose with her thumb.

Spotting what looked like a wizard's cloak hanging out of one of the suitcases, Harry decided to follow them. It seemed that his initial plan was going to work after all.

"Now remember: you and Fred need to keep an eye on Ronald. Don't want him slacking off or losing his way." The woman began talking to the one she had assisted earlier.

"I'm George, mum." The boy responded.

"Oh, sorry dear," The mother apologized.

"And you call us our mother," The other older boy, a twin by the looks of it, snickered even when the mother swatted him on the shoulder.

This family reminded him of both the Tonks and the Dursleys, and it was probably for that reason that Harry decided right then and there to make his existence known and ask for assistance. "Excuse me?" The mother heard his voice first, turning around with a raised eyebrow. This seemed to happen a lot in Harry's case. "Um…I'm trying to find Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. But I can't seem to find it." Harry continued, worried that maybe he was wrong and this family wasn't part of the magical world at all.

That would be very awkward to explain later.

Luckily, the woman smiled. "Oh, don't fret dearie. Ron is a first year as well. Come along and follow us, we can show you the way."

Harry thanked whatever was listening. He then immediately shuddered when he felt what he thought was something shrugging in the shadows and a resounding "meh" echoing in his mind. Or at least it felt like it. He quickly shook off that odd sensation.

The one named Ron was mostly silent as the group walked. The older twins, however, were a complete contrast; full of jokes and willing to talk to Harry about anything that got brought up. The youngest, a sister named Ginny, was staring at him oddly most of the time but also spoke when the opportunity was brought up. Eventually, they stopped in front of a large stone column that divided platforms nine and ten, and the mother took the lead.

"Alright, now you see that right there? That is how we enter. Just run on through, and the barrier will let you in."

Mentally kicking himself for not thinking of that sooner, Harry hid his frown by nodding. Now that weird whispering by Nym made _some_ sense.

"Okay, you first George." She motioned for one of the twins to run in first, to which he agreed and was on his way. After he disappeared to the other side, Fred went next.

"Nice to meet you, Harry! See you both later!"

Ron sighed heavily as his brother went through and decided to go before Harry, who was starting to wonder if the other boy even wanted to go to Hogwarts at all.

Harry thanked the woman who helped him and did just as the others had. A few steps closer to the pillar and he, for some reason, found his eyes shutting on instinct of expecting an impact. However, and much to Harry's relief, there was no impact, and he was on the other side staring at a marvelous black and red steam engine.

No sooner had he made his arrival, an impact decided to find Harry anyways. Something hit him from behind. He was jarred forward, sending a few parcels here and there around him. Harry turned to look behind him to tell the person to watch where they were going, but in that same second realized that he had blocked the way in and it was his fault entirely.

"S-Sorry! I'm so sorry!" The boy who bumped into him stammered, clearly expecting a reaction Harry had just thought of giving.

"It's not your fault, I blocked the way. Sorry." Harry went to move out of the way and began grabbing parcels.

The boy, a bit shorter and more portly then Harry, had black hair and slight buck teeth. Overall though, he seemed kind enough through his stammering and constant worry since he quickly went to help Harry grab stuff before they got ruined. Once the job was done, Harry had given him a few sickles with his thanks and a candy recommendation before heading to the train.

"Hey, you. Stop for a sec." A voice suddenly caught his attention, making Harry on full alert. Standing a few steps away from him was an older man in his thirties that was as tall as he was lanky. He was dressed in a black trench-coat with matching black slacks and shoes only offset by a bone white button-up collared dress shirt. On his stubbled face sat sunglasses that were slightly crooked to one side, showing the faint hint of dark colored eyes.

For all Harry knew, this one could have been security. Or he was someone who was with that snake man from his dreams that he never told the Tonks about. Oh, Harry wished he was…he had a few spells he wanted to 'practice' on that snake fellow...

"You Harry Potter?" The man asked, looking slightly bored as his body leaned somewhat to one side.

"Who wants to know…?" Harry asked back, getting ready to use his wand. Zaine had told him to keep it holstered somewhere near his hands at a regular sitting range so he could draw it out at any time he felt the need arose. In a way, the wand was like a gun, which was ironic in and of itself.

"My employer wanted me to hand this off to you," The man turned around and grabbed what looked like a large birdcage from somewhere behind him. Inside of it was a sleeping snowy owl with a name-tag that said "Hedwig" around its leg.

It then dawned on Harry who this man was; Zaine had mentioned that he had taken care of some of the remaining errand problems when they were on the way into the station earlier. "Professor Statera sent you?" Harry asked, also realizing how dumb his question sounded.

The stranger ignored him, yawning loudly while rubbing the sleep from one eye. "Well now that you are taken care of, I can go home and take a nap. See you later, kid."

Harry watched the man leave, completely confused as to what just happened.

The trip finding a seat inside of the express was just as hard as getting to it in the first place. By the time Harry had gotten on, most of the good seats were already taken. And that meant that he would have to somehow find one in the back. Although he did wonder what happened to those who couldn't find a seat…

Relief flooded him as he finally found a car that had an open seat, almost diving into it so he could relax and not have to walk or stand anymore. He set the snowy owl, Hedwig, on her own little perch and set about making himself comfortable. When he settled and closed his eyes, a voice spoke up as the door to his cabin opened.

"Oh, hey there again." The shy boy from earlier waved, smiling slightly.

Harry waved him in, "Hello. Come on in."

The boy sat down quickly and pulled out a book. Harry meanwhile, sat content to stare out the window. After several minutes of silence, the boy sighed and spoke up.

"Er, hello. I'm Neville. Longbottom...of the, er...Longbottoms..." This was his attempt at so-called Pure-blood etiquette. Harry did not read up on Pure-blood etiquette, so Neville's foible went unnoticed.

"Hi! I'm Harry Potter."

Neville's eyes widened and flicked to stare at Harry's forehead. Harry was expecting some measure of hero worship, as he was warned by the Tonks. He was unprepared for sympathy.

"I'm sorry about your parents...I lost mine too." Neville said, eyes downcast soon after. "They disappeared while protecting me, but I don't remember much about them."

It was at this moment Harry knew he found a friend. He didn't want people bowing down to The-Boy-Who-Lived (and Nym would tease him mercilessly if he even hinted at such), but someone who wanted to be a genuine, good-hearted friend.

He smiled at Neville. "It's very nice to meet you."

Neville offered a shy smile. "So, what house do you think you'll be in. Gran'd kill me if I were anything but a Gryffindor, like my dad was."

Harry shrugged. "Eh, I'm not sure. Gryffindor seems a little lazy, Hufflepuff is for people who don't care very much at all, Ravenclaw is for the birds, and Slytherin is a snake pun." ' _Nailed it_ ,' Harry thought. He was very proud of himself. It only took him twenty minutes to come up with this while the adventure through Diagon Alley had been happening. However, when he had joked about Hufflepuff, he _had_ felt an impact on his arm as if something had punched him there. But when he eventually turned to look at who did it, there was no one there. So yet again the young Mr. Potter filed that feeling under the many other strange phenomena he had dealt with that remained unanswered.

The boys shared a laugh and exchanged more small talk after that. Before they knew it, they were already halfway to Hogwarts. They had, of course, already put on their robes; it was the first thing they did, not wanting to rush themselves at the last second.

Sometime past noon, the door opened revealing a smiling woman trudging along behind a large trolley full of sweets, snacks, and drinks. "Anything from the trolley, dears? ...Oh my." For indeed, she looked in and saw a horrific sight. Two boys, already with snacks. _The horror_.

"No thanks, miss," Harry said, smiling as he held up a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "I brought extra from home."

Offering a fake smile, the attendant closed the door and walked to the next cart, hoping she would sell enough treats to make rent this month. As the door opened to the next cabin and she talked to whoever was in there, Harry could have sworn she was talking to someone with a slithery, dark whisper of a voice. And soon after that, the trolley lady could be heard walking down the train back the way she came, as if forgetting to check on the other carts…

His snooping was cut off as one of Harry's chocolate frog boxes suddenly pounced onto his lap. His collection of _Famous Witches and Wizards Cards_ was growing nicely, but he was missing several vital cards he had always wanted. He opened it up and passed the frog to Neville, his eyes glued on the card hard enough to miss the wicked gleam in his friend's eyes as he bit down _hard_ on the frog.

' _Someday that will be you, Trevor, for all the grief you've given me_.' Neville thought maliciously. That is until he suddenly had a thought that perhaps he said this out loud. With a quick glance, he stiffened as he happened to see Harry looking at him over his card with his own raised eyebrow.

But Harry, not privy to these thoughts because as far as the boy knew he was unable to read minds, lowered his eyebrow and looked back at the card. It seemed to be a new one because he hadn't even heard of this guy. But Harry could've sworn he had seen him before: The wizard on the front looked to be a skinny man around his mid-thirties with short dark brown hair and equally dark eyes behind a pair of tinted eyeglasses that looked more Muggle than magical make. He was dressed in a dark grey robe that appeared fluffy on the inside. This was all accented by a dark purple suit underneath. The picture seemed to be yawning while looking genuinely bored. On the back, it read:

 _Shine Azure_

 _World Famous Hit-Wizard for Hire_

 _Widely considered one of the most dangerous magic users in the world, he holds a staggering five hundred and ninety-three completed missions, along with many other non-contracted missions ranging in the thousands. Among that list are legendary class XXXXX creatures and even mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. There have been numerous trials to sentence him for Dark Magic, but at every trial, he hands over his wand willingly and leaves soon after as his wand shows to only have used simple household spells. When asked on the subject, Azure laughed and stated that: "Proper application of any spell can create any number of effects." He enjoys taking long, enthusiastic walks._

Harry stared hard at the picture intently, having a sense of déjà vu. He couldn't place where exactly he had seen him; perhaps he was one of the few walking around Gringotts or Diagon Alley? Or probably at the Leaky Cauldron, hunched over a pint of ale?

Neville noticed the card and seemed to have the opposite result, his eyes lighting up. "Hey, my Gran knows him! He and the newest Hogwarts Professor are old classmates. She says there were a few other blokes, but no one wants to talk about them. There was an…incident involving one of them."

After finishing up the snacks Neville and Harry were splitting between them, they decided to help each other with their spell-work. Not with wands, of course, but hand movements and pronunciation. Ever onwards approaching Hogwarts, the rivers became more abundant, and the hills more...well they started to show up.

The compartment door opened up, and a girl walked in. "Has anyone seen a rat? A boy named Ron has lost it. He didn't seem very put out about it, but I'm looking anyway."

"Hey, Hermione, no rats here. I wouldn't worry though, he's got a few older brothers, and they might know some spells. Want to sit with us? We're practicing magic." Harry smiled upon seeing the girl he had met in the bookshop and patted the spot next to him.

"Alright," she said. "I've tried most of the first-year spells just for practice, and they've all worked for me so far. I've had about a year for practice, so I don't think it will be that difficult. Of course, it _was_ a bit difficult at first; my parents aren't magical so they couldn't help much, and first-generation magicals are only allowed to do magic in their own homes. I'm glad to be going to Hogwarts though; I've read that it's the best school in the country. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

The boys had some difficulty paying attention to this, Neville more so than Harry. Neville introduced himself anyway. "Glad to meet you, Hermione, I'm Neville. Gryffindor hopeful." He added, attempting to add a bit more to the conversation.

Hermione beamed. "Really? Me too, though I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be terrible. I've always fancied myself as a brave, 'not afraid to speak my mind' kind of person."

"I'm just hoping for a _magical_ time at Hogwarts," Harry added. Who doesn't love puns? They're _pun_ derful.

This response prompted a suppression to smack Harry from Hermione. One that, if Harry looked back somewhere down the road in his life, it would be responsible for every possible smack on the head from not just the cute girl sitting next to him, but every other being associated with the female gender.

Neville coughed. "Erm, yes...anyway, did you catch the recent Prophet?"

Hermione looked confused. "Did...did you mean Jesus?"

Harry giggled. "I think he meant the newspaper, the _Daily_ Prophet."

Hermione blushed. "Oh. I still haven't gotten used to things around here."

"No worries about that Hermione, you should've seen me when Gran brought me into London. First time I ever saw a car, I thought it was powered by the blood of Muggles. No joke, the other blokes in my area all still think everyone else sacrifices people at the altar so the moon would bring the sun back."

Hermione knew he was exaggerating but appreciated it all the same.

"Anyway, the Prophet reported a break-in at Gringotts. One of the high-security vaults. They didn't steal anything, but the goblins said that due to the nature of what was in the vault they had followed standard procedure for thieves."

Each of the three children had different thoughts on the matter: Hermione was thinking deeply on how natural it was that the authorities were notified and that Gringotts would begin making overtures to improve the security of the vault. Neville meanwhile lamented to himself on how he hoped the thief was caught soon, as the goblins may increase the tax rate on their vaults otherwise. And finally, there was Harry, who sighed to himself on how he really hoped he wasn't one of the only few who knew about the runes; otherwise, it would mean that an _item_ was stolen and someone could merely pay an exorbitant fine for taking it in the first place.

Harry then remembered the other part of the punishment of the runes. "Neville, was there any reports of...kidnapping? Mysterious disappearances?"

"Oh, there's a few every month. Usually someone from Knockturn Alley." And with that Harry shuddered.

Just then, the sound of running feet caught their attention, and as they looked to the door of their cabin, it opened as a pale-faced platinum haired boy ran in and shut the door behind him. The look on his face was of pure, unadulterated fear. Realizing he wasn't alone in the cabin, the boy straightened himself and glared at Harry and his friends with slight resentment.

"What are you doing here, Draco?" Neville seemed to groan from his spot. From the sound of his voice, the two boys had met before.

"None of your business, Longbottom," Draco sneered. "I wouldn't dare spend my time in a cabin with the likes of _you_ if I didn't have to."

"Well, aren't you a pocketful of sunshine." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco heard the snide remark and glared at Hermione maliciously. "Shut up, _Mud-Blood_."

Hermione seemed to stiffen, looking hurt from what Draco had said. Harry didn't seem to understand what that term meant, but Neville had stood up with a defiant look on his face. Apparently, a "Mud-Blood" was a bad thing.

Harry knew right then and there that Malfoy was not the kind of person, wizard or otherwise, he wished to fraternize with. _No one_ would insult his friend and get away with it.

"Y-You apologize right now, Malfoy!" Neville growled, his body shaking even though he was attempting to be brave. Clearly a Gryffindor in the making.

Draco, clearly amused by Neville's outburst, scoffed. "You going to make me? I dare you to try."

Harry stood up as well and took one step to assist his new friend when the sound of slow, heavy footsteps suddenly came down the corridor, seeming to echo in the cabin. And in that same instant, Draco Malfoy dropped the tough guy act and looked all around him in a state of panic.

"Bugger! Not now!" Draco threw open the door and turned back to the three, his eyes narrowed angrily. "Th-This discussion isn't over, Longbottom! See you at Hogwarts!"

Just as Malfoy ran down the corridor and entered another cabin, the sound of the footsteps seemed to get closer to the one Harry occupied. The sound came closer and closer. Neville backed into the farthest corner of the cabin and Hermione looked to press close to Harry in fear. The noise stopped in front of their cabin, and a large draconic shadow seemed to loom behind it with glowing purple slits where eyes would be. Harry readied his wand…

The cabin door swung open, and the cheerful face of Polina popped in, the dragon seeming to disappear entirely. "Sorry to disrupt your quiet time, but has anyone seen a blonde come by here?"

Harry blinked in surprise at the rather quick reunion with the raven-haired girl he was thinking about earlier. Neville meanwhile fainted on the spot. "Polina?"

Polina beamed as she saw Harry, waving enthusiastically at him. "Hoi there, Harry. Fancy meeting up with you so quickly."

"Likewise." Harry nodded, looking over to make sure Neville was still alive. Thankfully, he was.

"Whatcha doin' all the way in the back? I could have saved my new bestie a seat all the way in the front!" Polina walked in and closed the door behind her, sitting down next to Neville.

Hermione coughed a little as she left Harry's side (much to his dismay...wait what?) and tried to regain composure. "Sorry, who are you?"

"Polina Cura of the…er…," Polina hesitated, her mind seeming to go a million miles a second before she shrugged. "Some sort of family."

"Well, my name is Hermione Granger. Pleasure meeting you." Hermione held out her hand.

"Any friend of Harry Potter is a friend of mine!" Polina took the hand and shook it with a dignified business-like manner.

"Polina," Harry interrupted. "You mentioned that you were looking for a blonde earlier…by any chance, was it Malfoy?"

At the sound of his name, Polina seemed to swoon in her spot while also looking very grumpy about it. "You did see him, then? I knew he came down this way. Oh well, next time I will catch him for sure."

"C-catch him?" Neville had finally revived and was slowly going back to his usual self.

"Of course! Draco Malfoy is like a rare monster that can fit in your pocket if given a chance and proper training. Got a Master Ball with his name on it!" She grinned, twirling a bit of her hair in thought. "Or perhaps I should use the Trap Hole card…or that Time Net my uncle used to catch those infernal monkeys wearing Piko Piko helmets…"

Neville and Harry stared at Polina as if she was talking nonsense. Hermione, however, seemed intrigued and leaned forward in her seat, conversing on the subject further.

After a few minutes of conversation, a voice echoed through the cabin. "We will arrive at Hogwarts in approximately five minutes, please leave all personal belongings in the train. They will be moved to your room after the Sorting." The boys looked at each other and scrambled to make themselves presentable. The girls looked at each and rolled their eyes, already looking immaculate. As much as an eleven-year-old can anyway.

The train came into the station, and the students clambered out of their compartments. While the upper years all went off to various locations, the first years assembled at the platform, waiting anxiously for the next step in their adventure to Hogwarts for the first time. Harry was the first to spot the lantern, a glowing beacon in the crisp night air, attached to a somewhat familiar giant and a voice he swore he heard before.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" It sounded very rehearsed, yet pleasant all the same. "Come along now! We don' want to be late!" The man turned around and led the students down a narrow path. "You'll get yer first look at Hogwarts just as soon as we roun' this corner."

The path opened up to a great lake, and in the horizon, a castle. And what a magnificent castle it was. While many were 'ooh'-ing and 'aah'-ing, Harry was content to stare at what would practically be his home for the next seven years.

"Come on, come on. Into the boats ya go! And only four per boat, don' try an' squeeze in a fifth. Mister Huggy doesn't like it, and you wouldn't like Mister Huggy when he is inna mood." A few students laughed. One group tried to fit five in a boat to the titters of their classmates. No one laughed when a humongous tentacle popped up and grabbed one of the students to plop him in the very last boat that only seated three.

After a few minutes to shake their terror away, and a few more to get everyone in the boats and on their way, Hagrid stood at what was the head of the boats. "Right, FORWARD!" And so, they went. The group lost any feeling of fear as they came closer to the castle, and soon enough they made it to the nearby harbor.

Hermione leaned over to Harry and began to whisper. "A while ago, they had it where we had to duck under a curtain of ivy, but a few students fell out of the boats now and then and they had to change it."

Harry thought this was a reasonable thing to do, all things considered.

It didn't stop him from feeling crushed that he wasn't able to go down a dark tunnel and do all the naughty things he wanted to do to Hermione. Like, scare her when she wasn't looking, or tap her farthest shoulder so she would look behind her and think someone else was getting her attention. He _was_ eleven.

The students had all left the boats by this point and were making their way up to the castle. The giant soon walked up to an old Mahogany door and knocked the handle three times, pounded his fist on the door twice, kicked the bottom four times, poked the door frame once, then tickled the door until it opened.

Every Pure-blood thought magic was amazing, such a great way to open a door!

Everyone else hated how horribly inefficient it all was and wanted inside quick.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry Potter and the First Rejection of Canon

Chapter Seven:

Assorted Students

Luckily for the poor students, the door burst open. Harry recognized the witch waiting for them a few steps indoors as Professor McGonagall, the rather stern looking woman he met in the book shop not so long ago.

"'Ere ya go Professor! Brought 'em quick as I could," said Hagrid.

She smiled at Hagrid. "Well done Hagrid. Well? Come, students, before you catch your death of cold." She turned and rapped on an innocuous brick slightly to the left, and the doors majestically folded upwards (much to the consternation of most of the students at the blatant overuse of magic; too much and it becomes mundane).

They all hobbled into the entrance hall, and the earlier lost enthusiasm was brought back. It was massive! You could fit a house or two in it! Lines of torches lit the way and the ceiling…oh, it was a tapestry of art: long branches filled with flowers of all kinds, some magical and some not, living together. It evoked a feeling of welcoming in all who saw it.

Professor McGonagall led the students down the entrance. Along the way, Hermione perked her ears towards the end of the hallway. Harry, being curious, tried to hear what she heard: he could make out quite a few boisterous voices, likely to be the students who already knew how to get into the castle. He was brought back to awareness when Professor McGonagall made a sudden turn into a smaller chamber just to the right of the hall. It was somewhat on the small side, but not so little to crush everyone together. Harry huddled up towards his friends anyways to make more room for the other students.

"First, I would like to say it is my distinct pleasure to welcome you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Professor McGonagall smiled towards the group. "I do so look forward to teaching many newcomers to the world of magic as much as I do those with previous exposure. Tonight, however, you are only expected to learn one thing: your house for the next seven to eight years." Despite this introduction being repeated each year, she still gave off an air that it was merely rehearsed.

"We have four houses at Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Named so, after the Four Founders who were monumental in Great Britain's history. I hope to see all of you exceed the Founders and it is my sincerest hope that each of you goes on to do great things and that you use what you were taught here as a basis for such. To encourage this, we have implemented a rather thorough point system, which we will be starting to use, rather ironically, in your own first year. Instead of students earning points for the House, each student will be awarded points on an individual basis, and the total points of the students will be the House points. Teachers will reward points for good behavior, and each graded assignment will be awarded points based on the grade itself. Conversely, bad behavior will be awarded negative points, as well as detentions. More information will be presented as a guide in your house, but for reference; a grade of Outstanding will earn 20 points, Exceeds Expectations will earn 10, an Acceptable will earn no points, Poor will earn minus 10, Dreadful will earn minus 20, and a mark of Troll will earn a staggering minus 50. Cheating will earn a minus 100. If a teacher awards points to your house but not you specifically, worry not as the plaque above your head will keep note of your points for you."

Some students were pleased, most of all Hermione. Some students were not, most of all most Pure-bloods.

"But that's enough for now. On to the Sorting itself, then the feast! You have a few minutes to steady yourself or talk to your fellow students who may end up your roommates for the next few years. You will be called shortly." With her speech over, she turned and then left the room. Most students grew even more nervous as they had hoped to get away with slacking off on homework. But if any student can walk past your bed and see how many points you lost your house, well...many students promised themselves to work extra hard on their assignments.

A few, however, seemed more nervous on the methods of going into the houses than the points system. Harry overheard a conversation between Neville and the first year Weasley, Ron. According to Ron, Forge and Gred had stated numerously that they had to wrestle a troll with their bare hands. Neville seemed to believe that the test involved performing their best spells. A lot of speculation was thrown about, but with the new point system, _anything_ was possible.

Harry smothered a laugh. He was sure there was no troll; otherwise, there would be no room for the tables. There is absolutely no way any first year would be facing a troll. He looked over at Hermione to see she was looking at Neville contemplatively, looking at her feet and muttering all the spells she knew under her breath. Harry then gave thought to Neville's words. Maybe they did need to cast some spells. ' _Well_ ,' he thought, ' _Anything is possible_.' And then he began going over the spells he knew best, starting with the flashiest among the list.

He was cut off though from a scream behind him. Followed by more screaming.

So, he did what any sensible person would do. He grabbed Hermione and pushed her ahead of him.

"Hey!" she yelled. "What on earth are you doing?!"

He kept pushing as more people screamed. "I've seen horror movies before, and I don't want to die. And I am pushing you because I don't want you to die either!"

Hermione was touched. Well, emotionally anyway, Harry was still pushing her. She hadn't had a friend her own age before. She turned to give him a hug, but as she saw what was behind him and gaining on them, she abruptly moved behind Harry so she could push him faster while chanting that which is most holy.

"Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope!"

It seemed she saw the ghosts. There was an alarming number of them for a school. A magic school yes, but for a school to be haunted by so many? All of the 'nopes' one can give, and then some.

Hermione and Harry both stopped abruptly when the ghosts began talking to one another. A heavy-set monk addressed another floating next to him. "Peeves may be an unrepentant prankster, but surely that isn't enough of a reason to ban him from our parties, eh Ferdinand?"

"Friar, Peeves isn't a prankster, he is a poltergeist. Why the faculty is so insistent on keeping him here, I have no idea, oh." The rather nondescript looking ghost addressed the students. "Well, hello. My, is it that time of year already? Most excellent, I look forward to seeing you all excel in magic! Why back in my day..." he trailed off.

Harry and Hermione didn't hear him. Once they heard the word poltergeist, they looked at each other with a deadpan expression and bolted towards the front of the chamber. They had seen a movie called Poltergeist. And as the screams increased behind them, so had many others. The Pure-bloods, however, were laughing at the silly mud-bloods. They were just ghosts! Even Polina seemed to be getting a kick out of seeing everyone else so scared.

The Friar frowned. "Oh dear, this is an extreme reaction. It doesn't seem to be nerves...I dare say I've never seen such a reaction... Perhaps we should check in on Muggle Studies? Something had to have changed recently."

Another nondescript ghost sniffed. "Bah! What use have _we_ to learn anything from outside the castle? It isn't like we leave. And let's be honest here, it isn't like we'll be a major influence on this batch at all. None of the students bother to come to talk to us often, anyways."

The Friar sputtered. "Yes, well… I can at least hope to have an excellent bunch in my old house, Edwards. Hufflepuff to the end!"

"Hmph! To the end and beyond, rather!" A surly looking ghost piped in from the back. "Honestly, it has been positively ages since I've died. I really am looking forward to moving on, but alas I cannot!"

There was a sharp cough. McGonagall had returned. "If you wouldn't mind, the Sorting Ceremony is about to begin. Students, please cease that racket and follow me. Ghosts. Leave." It seemed she returned with a vengeance. The students' screams had begun to peter out, except for one who sounded as if they were screaming because other people were and didn't want to be left out. Soon, there were no screams, and the ghosts had all left.

"Please form an orderly line and follow me into the Great Hall." Her voice brokered no argument.

Harry found himself in front of Hermione, and behind Polina. Soon enough, the students began the march to the future. And the Great Hall.

Following Professor McGonagall was an exercise in no-nonsense. As soon as a student began to wander off, she would cough, and they were all back into an orderly line. Harry and Hermione were too busy being awed by the old castle to pay too much attention to where they were going, whereas Polina was skipping along and humming a tune that sounded wrong to anyone who paid too much attention to it.

A loud banging sound brought the students' attention immediately to the front, where the doors to the Great Hall had opened.

 _Stupefied_ was not even close to the expression on every new student's face. Some had heard of the splendor of Hogwarts, and of the Great Hall specifically. But nothing could have prepared them for this. The ceiling provided the only light in the entire Hall, but it was more than enough. The stars in the night sky shone with more brilliance than what could be seen outside, bathing the whole hall with a soothing light. Looking around, Harry and Hermione spotted the four tables of the four houses, in which in front of each student were magnificent golden plates and goblets. Harry, in particular, was fond of the gold plates, while Hermione was more entranced with the ceiling. She leaned over to whisper at Harry. "The ceiling was supposed to be bewitched to look like the sky outside, according to _Hogwarts, A History_. But it seems to be...more than that..."

At the front of the hall was a long table, where most of the teachers were sitting. They were all amused by the fresh faces, while some were keeping an eye on the older years. On their faces was an expression similar to the first years: awe and wonder. Professor McGonagall let the students' awe wear down slightly, and led them to the top of the hall, in front of the teachers. Looking around, Harry saw quite a majestic sight as most of the ghosts tried for a misty transparency. But with the lighting, it made them shine a silvery color and really accentuated the hall.

A _clack_ brought all the students' attention to Professor McGonagall who placed a stool in front of the first years. She then set a raggedy looking hat on the stool. It looked like a rather stereotypical wizard's hat, only...dirty, patchy, and worn down.

There was bemusement in the faces of the older years and some of the teachers. Harry tried to figure out what they could possibly do to get sorted. Maybe some sort of task involving the hat? Maybe Ron was _some_ kind of right, and it being a magic hat you had to fight it? Polina elbowed him and nodded over to the hat with a look of surprise yet also great amusement. The hat sprouted a mouth, and the crinkles near the top creased downward to make what look like eyes.

'What.' he thought. 'Oh god, it isn't going to...'

Yes, it was. It was going to sing. It's seam-like mouth opened further, and Harry suppressed a grimace. It was going to start soon….

"Now this is the story all about how,

your life got flipped, turned upside down,

And I'd like to take a minute, put down your forks,

to tell you how we sort the students here at Hogwarts."

Suddenly the hat stopped singing and seemed to slide off the stool, the battered thing flopping on the floor with a delicate thud. Almost as one, the school blinked in confusion. Was the song over? Was it defective and needed to be replaced? One of the professors, a short man with brown hair and mustache that looked more Goblin than human, leaned over the teacher's table to get a better look. Another, a tall, stern man with shoulder-length black hair darker than the ebony robes he wore, seemed to sigh heavily and drank down whatever was in his goblet in one go.

The hat stayed motionless for a second or two before it seemed to right itself. It then started to slowly rise off the floor, a body appearing underneath it with its face masked by the hat, head tilted downward. Its head lifted head up, and the stranger grinned at the feasting hall, then winked before setting the hat back on the stool.

Harry's mouth hung agape. The blond hair and that attire he wore was unmistakable. "Professor _Zaine_?" This was going to be stranger than he had ever realized. But the way Zaine was acting…and the way he was moving…that could have only meant one thing.

Thus, the horrifying duet began…

"My name is Zaine Statera, Hufflepuff, born and raised

In the office is where I spend most of my days.

Workin' hard, patient, loyal to the end,

When you hang with 'Puffs, you'll never find a better friend."

"People say Slytherins are up to no good,

always makin' trouble in the neighborhood.

Show ambition and cunning, and they all run scared,

A few rotten apples ruin the whole feast? That isn't fair."

"Ravenclaw is next, now don't be shy.

These studious individuals really know how to fly,

Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure,

So, the Grey Lady says, and it's all in good measure!

Finally, is Gryffindor, braver than any boar.

Daring nerve and chivalry are always beneficially.

Red and yellow are this House's style,

So, dig deep your ions and roar like the lions!

So now you know all about Hogwarts, and all of their houses,

this kingdom of knowledge that we love to acknowledge.

Don't be so shy, come up and don't lie.

The Sorting hat is here, so sit and be sorted, why don't'cha?

The whole hall burst into applause as the duo finished their song. The hat and Professor Zaine bowed to each of the four tables, hamming it up before the hat went limp again and the blond went to sit at the teacher table. As he sat, many of the teachers shook his hand and said how wonderfully different it was this year, including the man at the head of the table with a long silver beard and half-moon spectacles. But McGonagall and a few others merely rolled their eyes.

Polina was heard clapping louder than most people, giggling to herself. She then turned to Harry, "The song changes every year, so it's different every time. Glad to see this one was a hit!" The fact made Harry pause briefly as his mind wandered to how Polina knew about the song number being changed per year. That wasn't in the books…not that he remembered anyways.

"So, we've just got to try on the hat!" Harry heard Neville whisper somewhere in front of him. "That shouldn't be too bad. Not bad at all." Indeed, Harry had to agree; trying on a talking hat in front of hundreds of eager faces seemed much more orthodox. Though he did wonder how exactly the process for sorting was to work, as he doubted a simple hat could hold powerful psychic abilities.

Professor McGonagall finally stepped forward again with a long, rolled up parchment in her hand. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." She unrolled the parchment and peeked at the first name on the list. "Susan Bones!"

A girl at the front of the line shyly walked upwards and awkwardly placed the hat on her head. Immediately, the face on the hat came back, and it peeked down at her.

"Ah! The first of the new batch. Let us see what the future holds for you…" After a second, the hat righted itself and shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table with the Badger on its banner cheered and clapped loudly, with even the friar ghost from before waving merrily at her. But they were all outdone by Professor Zaine as he stood up from his chair and yelled out a merry, "HUFFLEPUFF TO THE END!"

McGonagall sighed and tried to ignore the professor acting unprofessionally as she read the next name. "Hannah Abbott!"

A blonde girl with a very pink-face stumbled out of line, put on the hat, and gave a soft yelp of surprise when it fell right over her eyes. As soon as she sat down, however, she gave another as the hat shouted after a second.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table next to Susan, blushing red now. Zaine meanwhile laughed with delight and stated how proud he was that the first two students were in his House.

"Terry Boot!" McGonagall called again.

"RAVENCLAW!" The hat shouted for the third time in what appeared to be a long night.

For what seemed almost an entire hour, the hat sorted the students into their respective houses. Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat would stop to think a while on some students while others were immediate. He also realized how he regretted his original thoughts that dismissed a hat not being psychic. This was the magical world, he had to remember, and anything could rightfully be possible.

Malfoy had swaggered forward when his name was called. He had only sat down for just a second, and the hat wasn't even on his head when the hat screamed out "SLYTHERIN!"

As he went to sit by two massive looking boys who looked more like bouncers than students, Harry heard Polina whisper something to herself excitedly. He almost missed Neville being sorted, the boy running to the Hufflepuff table soon after. And after that, the boy named Ron he had met earlier before getting on the train was sorted into Gryffindor, much to the merriment of his brothers.

McGonagall read the next name, seeming to mutter something to herself before calling it out. "Polina Cura!"

Polina squealed in delight and skipped up to the stool, waving to the head table as Professor Zaine excitedly waved back. Meanwhile, at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy seemed to stiffen as he watched the girl skip up to get sorted with eyes like a hawk and a small bead of sweat forming on his brow.

She then placed the hat on her head as she closed her eyes, almost like a child eagerly awaiting a birthday present. The hat came to life as it usually did, but the expression of its…face…was one that was almost unreadable. After a long void of grave silence, the hat whispered very faintly. "Oh, bullocks…not another one…" It stayed silent for another few seconds before it yelled out a timid, "SLYTHERIN…?"

Polina screamed at the top of her lungs with absolute glee as she stood up and almost ran for the Slytherin table, the hat barely having time to plop itself back on the stool by the time she got there. Looking for a seat, the raven-haired girl blinked and looked around confused. It seemed Draco Malfoy had mysteriously disappeared…though the doors to the Great Hall were swaying slightly as if someone just ran out.

In the middle of the Slytherin cheers, Professor Zaine was laughing hysterically while the man dressed in black seemed to groan and facepalm. A thought suddenly struck Harry as he watched the two: What if he wasn't sorted into any of the Houses? He doubted that would actually happen, but had it happened before?

"Harry Potter!"

As soon as Harry heard his name and stepped forward, a chorus of whispers hissed along the entire hall. Even some of the teachers and other staff members were eyeing him with earnest intrigue. Zaine gave Harry a thumbs-up and nodded before the hat was placed on his head upon sitting down.

Hmm," the voice said in his ear, though he was sure everyone could hear it. "Very difficult. Plenty of courage but also not a bad mind either. There's talent and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting..."

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought about how he wasn't going to be biased in wishing for a particular House and how he would be happy in any of them, as long as he got to be in one.

"Ah, well this is refreshing. Don't mind where you end up as long as you enjoy it, eh?" The hat continued. It at this point that Harry realized that hat _was_ psychic and would likely chastise him later. "Are you sure? I'll give you a chance to at least pick one of your fancy to weigh between my choice. No? Well, if you're sure - better be SLYTHERIN!"

The whole room seemed to deadpan, crickets chirping at the other tables and even the table with the teachers. Then Slytherin erupted into applause, with some of the students chanting: "WE GOT POTTER! WE GOT POTTER!" while others were patting him on the back and setting him up a place of honor near the front so all could see him. He ended up being next to Polina, who looked like she had calmed down from her sudden outburst of untamed joy and was back to her usual cheery self.

He couldn't be too sure, but Harry thought he saw the man in the corner with the black robes nod at him with a small smile.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione gulped but hid her nervous disposition as she walked over to the sorting hat and jammed it on her head. The hat took a bit to decide but yelled out "RAVENCLAW!" when it made its decision.

Harry clapped loudly with the rest, but also seemed disappointed that she wasn't in the same House he was in. Both Neville and Hermione had gone to other Houses, with Polina being the only friend he had to start off with. Oh well, one out of three was still better than none.

Soon enough all were sorted, and Zaine popped off with the Sorting Hat, giggling all the while. Harry was listening to Polina talk about Draco. And honestly? While Draco didn't seem to be the kind of fellow Harry wanted to interact with, subjecting him to Polina was...a bit much. He made a promise to himself to look out for Draco. As long as he toned he stopped being so much of a prat.

A loud clapping sound drew his, and all other students' attention to the Teacher's Table. The Headmaster stood, smiling all the while, as he prepared himself to make a grand speech. "Greetings and salutations!" His arms flew wide open, likely symbolizing his extreme acceptance of all students from all ranges. "Today is the start of a new year for Hogwarts. New students making new traditions, and older students passing their wisdom on the younger. While I am sure we would all like to feast, I'd like to say a few words. Grazioso, Hegemony, Reciprocity, Salubrious!"

With...uh...that...he took his seat. Many students clapped their hands at the sheer genius of the headmaster! Others...well, others thought he should put down the Thesaurus. Harry, giggled. Because wordplay. A few words indeed.

A student next to him caught his giggle. "Alright mate?"

"Me? I feel...punderful." He giggled a bit. Then realized he already used that joke. ' _Ah well,_ ' he thought. ' _Can't all be winners_.'

A few more students started whispering. "Do ya think he's alright in the head?"

Harry ignored them and grabbed some potatoes.

Hermione and many other students, however, were boggled. The plates that were previously empty were full of every British food one could dream of. As well as some that were…less than appetizing, but let's ignore those.

Back to Harry, he froze up. There was a ghost. Right. Behind. Him.

"Ah, to be flesh again. What I wouldn't give to try some real, actual meat..."

Harry paled.

"Ah, where are my manners. You may call me the Bloody Baron."

' _Oh great_.' Harry despaired. ' _He's already killed at_ _ **least**_ _once_.'

"Ah, the strong silent type eh? Worry not, I'll not bother you long. Though I am aware of the point systems rather drastic alterations, please do well. Slytherin is on a winning streak you see, I would hate for us to lose it."

And with that, Harry's fate was sealed. He would ace every test. He would not be just another victim of this ghost.

Harry reached for a chicken leg, hoping to appease the ghost's blood lust with a suitable offering that was not of the human variety, when it all disappeared. Harry froze, again. He tried to grab the air, in hopes that maybe his offering was merely invisible. His hand felt cold; the ice cream had materialized around his hand. Polina giggled.

Fortunately, the ghost wandered off, and Harry relaxed. As he got back in the swing of things, he noticed that the relevant topic for many a student was family. So, he turned to his currently only friend to insert himself in that conversation, picking up her latest comment.

"Me? Well, I'm not sure what the terminology is, but my Uncle Vic calls me an intern. He calls most of us interns. Not 100 percent sure what exactly that means." said Polina. "I don't really have parents, just a lot of Aunts and Uncles. You might have noticed Professor Zaine. He's one of the previously mentioned Uncles."

Harry froze for the umpteenth time today. Professor Zaine. Was. Her _Uncle_? One of apparent **_many_**?! That explained so much and yet so little.

The other students laughed nervously. They were reasonably sure she was, at most, a half-blood. But since her Uncle was on the staff, a lot of the unrulier students decided to tone down their ideology. At least in front of her.

One student, one Harry recognized as Pansy as he heard from the Sorting Hat, decided now was the appropriate time to ask something that had been bothering her. "What's the deal with you and Draco?"

Polina squealed. "He was a birthday present from The Big Four. Uncles, anyway, The Big Four Uncles." Jaws were dropped, including Harry's. "See, the Malfoys were in a bit of a pickle, with the war ending. And they stood to lose a lot. A whole lot. So, Malfoy Sr. got in contact with an old classmate of his, Zaine, and made a deal with him. A son, for support. He doesn't go to jail, the Malfoys lose little, and I get a husbando!"

To those not paying much attention to the conversation at all, the more studious of them were going over what they think the lessons might be about.

"Obviously, Potions would be the best. The head of the house is said to be far more lenient of his house than the others. But I am so looking forward to Transfiguration. It's supposed to be difficult, but Professor McGonagall is legendary in her teaching prowess, and no student has ever gotten below an acceptable on their test."

"I've heard that too, not even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named ever went after her. And no student of hers ever raises a wand on her, no matter who they were. I heard that not even the Aurors would try anything, even if she cast any of the Unforgivables to them, or even just in front of them."

"Well, I can't blame them. You don't mess with McGonagall."

After suppressing his giggles, Harry looked up at the Teachers Table once more. The giant of a man, Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. With his overall mannerism, Harry suspected it was Adult Juice, the kind that Andy and Ted had whenever he and Nym got into significant trouble. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Well, talking at him anyways. Honestly, he suspected the Headmaster was just nodding along, knowing if there were any problems, McGonnagal would... _take care of it_. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Quirrell, was talking to Professor Zaine, who often turned to the side and seemed like he was suppressing a look. A look like he knew something that no one else did. Harry thought he saw Professor Zaine nod meaningfully at a shadow on the wall, but that was just his imagination. Then again, after everything that happened in the last few days, what with the goblins and psychic hats, Harry couldn't be sure.

Continuing to look at Professor Quirrell, Harry's scar started to itch. It happened regularly. Whenever he caught sight of something interesting, his scar would react until he knew all about the thing, and then it would stop.

Polina, sharply turned her head to Harry, so fast that some heard a crack. "You alright there Harry?"

"Hm? Oh, I'm fine. It happens sometimes." Said Harry. "There's a whole story about it, I'll tell you later."

"Alright Harry, I'll expect that talk. Don't want anything to happen before it's supposed to." Polina replied.

"Er…yeah…"

Polina nodded to the staff table. "Watch out for Snape though. He and your dad had a... _bit_ of a rivalry thing going on. He might pass that on to you. It's doubtful he'd be too hard on you cause you are part of his house, but it's likely he'll grade you extra hard."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. He resolved to look at this Potions textbook again. It couldn't hurt to be prepared after all.

A short while after that, the desserts vanished from the table. Dumbledore clapped his hands again, to draw attention to himself, likely for a few more words.

"Well now. As we've all are our fill and drained our goblets, I have a few notices to give you all. The forest on the grounds, the new years will note, is called the Forbidden Forest. It is, as its name implies, forbidden. Some of you would do well to remember this."

Gorge and Freed high fived.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind all of you, that magic is to be restricted to the classrooms, your common rooms, and your beds. Not the stairways, nor the corridors."

Quite reasonable. Learn magic in the classroom, and practice in the common room.

"The most famous of wizarding sports, Quidditch, is holding trials during the second week this term. Anyone interested in watching and taking notes, or try their hand for the house team, should speak to Madam Hooch."

"Last, and most grave of all, the third-floor corridor in the West Wing is out of bounds to everyone. This is not a joke, nor a call for your adventurous spirits. We are housing a few of our more dangerous objects there, as well as some new renovations. If you go there, try not to bleed on the new walls."

Most of the students nodded solemnly or looked appropriately grave. Some tittered with laughter until they realized no one else was laughing.

Harry seemed taken aback. "Great," he mumbled. "I come here to learn magic, and it is apparently likely I will _die_ if I make a wrong turn."

"Ah cheer up, Harold!" Polina said. "At least it's exciting, right?"

"First off, don't call me Harold. Second, I like living. If I die here, I will be dead, and that is directly contrary to my desire to _not_ be dead. Lastly, oh look he's talking again."

"But let's leave that dreary news behind us! Prepare yourselves students!" cried Dumbledore. "For the school song!" Polina giggled and forced Harry's head to turn to the rest of the teachers who looked dismayed. Harry just let it happen.

Dumbledore nodded to Zaine, who waved his hand and then snapped his fingers. A motion that sent visible waves of sound that quickly arranged themselves into silvery words.

"A one, and a two, and whenever you like!" said the Headmaster. "Begin!"

And Harry's ears figuratively _bled_.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now, they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

Harry felt extremely bad for the teachers if they had to be subjected to this. Once a year was too much. They didn't even finish at the same time. Freg and Georde were also taking their damn sweet time with what sounded to be a funeral march. After the horror of that 'song' was over, Dumbledore wiped a tear away.

"In a world of Unicorns and Hippogriffs and Chocolate Frogs, music is a magic that transcends even those. Now, off you go, my musically gifted students! Off to bed!" He led the procession of teachers off.

The Slytherin prefect, one Gemma Farley, told the first years to follow through the crowds and led them down the marble stairs to a rather dark corner of the castle. Harry wanted to use his legs, but Polina was dragging him off at a speed he couldn't match. He probably could, if it was consistent movement. The portraits along the way noticed him and started giggling. This would prove to be a reoccurring thing, as most things seemed to be in his life.

He was jarred out of his thoughts when Gemma spoke up. "Don't bother trying to memorize how to get there. The routes often change themselves. Just speak out loud where you must be and by when, and hope you get there."

To prove her point, she made a sharp turn to a hanging tapestry and walked behind it. As everyone scrambled to keep up with her, they tried moving behind the tapestry that Gemma did, only to notice just a bare wall behind it. Gemma had somehow moved behind them. "The castle takes you where you need to be. Only the Hufflepuffs have managed to crack its secrets. And they guard that secret against all attempts." She turned and walked off at a slower pace so the rest of the students could keep up. Gemma then walked down a set of stairs, at the end of which was a room with a door.

"Some students like to put on an air of mystery for the first years, with some codswallop of needing a password to get in. But the castle knows. Say anything to it, and it'll let you in _if_ you are from the house _or_ are escorted by a student of the house. Observe." she twirled towards the door.

"Yikkity do, yikkity da, ping pong, lippy tappy too ta." And the door opened to reveal a hole in the wall. They all walked through the hole into a mysterious looking room. Some of the walls were windows into the Great Lake itself, and Harry could vaguely see Mr. Huggy a little ways back. Back to the room itself; there were chairs, couches, cushions, and he even spied a bean bag in a corner. The overall color scheme of the room was, surprise surprise, green and silver.

"Okay then," said Gemma. "Boys to the right, girls to the left. You'll find your names on the doors to your rooms, and that's where you will sleep. You are not restricted to that room and may hang out in other rooms, but you _must_ sleep in your room. You will share the room, four students each, and the plaque Professor McGonagall mentioned is located at the head of the bed. Each house has a unique resource: the Gryffindors have a training room, Ravenclaw has a library, Hufflepuff has the kitchens, and we Slytherins have a garden full of various potions ingredients through the door straight ahead."

She turned to the group of first years with a hard glint in her eye. "One last thing. We have held the house cup for four years straight now, and the Quidditch cup for as long. Let's keep it going, shall we? Off you go." With her piece said, she marched off to the girls' dormitory and presumably to bed.

With a shrug, Harry led the charge and went through the door to the boys' room. After wandering around for a minute or two, he found his door. On the door was his name, Draco Malfoy, and two other names Harry wasn't paying attention to because of Draco Malfoy being a prat. With a little sigh, he opened the door to see four four-poster beds, with curtains a beautiful dark green. Harry saw his own plaque, which hung on presumably his bed, with his trunk below it. He rummaged through it for a bit, found and changed into his pajamas, and fell on the bed.

Maybe it was the stress of near-death by the ghost, perhaps it was the food, but Harry has a rather peculiar dream. He found himself at that weird place he saw when he picked up his wand, the place that looked like an Inn. He looked through the windows to see four beings he couldn't describe. Because they didn't make sense. Which itself made sense, as dreams often don't. One of the figures, cloaked in shadow, pointed at him and made a motion to slice his neck. The group started to laugh, and he woke up, sweating and shaking. He sighed, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

When he woke the next morning, he didn't remember anything about the dream. But he did find himself watching the shadows more.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry Potter and the First Rejection of Canon

Chapter Eight:

Classroom Daze

"Merlin's saggy balls, there he is!"

"Where?"

"Next to the Draco Malfoy."

"What's with the glasses?"

"Did you see his face? Such a horrid scar…"

Harry tried to ignore the whispering of the, admittedly **very** rude, students the next day. It was a bit concerning to see some of the older years watching him walk down the halls, and some found themselves wondering how they double-backed to the same spot before they saw him again and forgot all about it. It was beginning to be a problem for Harry, who was tempted to run straight into a painting to get to his classroom.

He saw some of the other first years running around, just playing with the castle. It was a bit fun playing with a building that could play back; Harry himself had made time to play a small game where he had to jump up every other stair on one staircase, and found that the stairs changed to keep him guessing, add tiles with points on them or going the opposite direction like a conveyor belt! It was, as Harry told Draco when he was asked about it, much more fun to arrive at one staircase and try to guess what game Hogwarts wanted to play than to merely walk across like an ordinary student.

Other than that, Harry found himself so immersed in the magic of the castle that he started to figure out exactly what the castle wants. Some doors needed you to ask politely, others rudely, some needed to be tickled, and some doors wanted to play hide and seek. The people in the portraits often helped the students too, taking delight in the seventh-year students acting like children just to get inside a classroom. Although occasionally there was always the small surprise of being booted on the backside or being tripped by an ornery suit of armor when you walked past.

Even the ghosts got in on the fun. Well, it seemed that way anyway. Often times a ghost would glide through a door someone wanted to open, or even the students themselves. The Bloody Baron often helped students figure out where they needed to go, and most of the other ghosts were just as helpful and happy to see every single student they came across.

However, for all the good ghosts in Hogwarts, there was Peeves the Poltergeist. Peeves was an absolute bloody _git_. Harry's fear of ghosts was cured thanks to him. Only, fear had turned to blind rage. His 'pranks' were of the worst sort imaginable; not funny and, often times, just plain hurtful. He swore vengeance when he saw him make a first-year cry, only for the ghost to laugh and run away.

And he couldn't forget about the caretaker, Argus Filch. The old man was intimidating as he was ruthless. He had just heard that Ron Weasley had tried to force his way into the out of bounds corridor just a few hours ago and that Filch tried to lock him in the dungeons without a second thought. Luckily for Ron, he was saved by Professor Statera who happened to be walking by at that instant; the professor had enacted the "first-year safety net" rule to protect the Weasley kid from almost certain doom. Apparently, this just made Ron a bigger target for Filch, but at least he was safe. For now.

As Polina explained it to him later, her uncle had implemented the rule into Hogwarts even before he started teaching there as a professor. It was used mostly as a three-strikes rule for some small misdemeanors. Apparently, there was a lot of rule-breaking regarding first years, and Statera had found that most people break the rules on accident since they had no idea what they were because no one cared to take the time to explain thoroughly. Harry was grateful for Professor Statera having their back, but he also had no idea what anyone would want in that forbidden corridor. And after hearing Professor Dumbledore say at the opening ceremony that it was dangerous, Harry wanted nothing to do with it.

The caretaker also had a cat he called Mrs. Norris. It was a small, dirty brown little ball of fur which often joined Filch on patrols of the corridors. She was also...eerily intelligent. She strictly enforced the rules; if she caught you breaking a rule, she'd scamper off to find Filch, who'd appear not a minute later running as fast as he could to assign detentions, and could be then seen with dark amusement glinting in her eyes. Some have tried to kick the small creature out of spite, only to be blocked and then punished with even more detentions and point reductions from members of the staff, on top of even more hatred and threats of severe punishments by Mr. Filch.

Harry knew quite a few spells from his years of self-study and was quite happy to have this year as a refresher. A lot of magical families let the children read ahead, but more often than not the students are matched. Especially when the muggles have turned cramming information into children's small heads into an art form itself. He knew a lot of Pure-Bloods would struggle with the 12 inches of parchment, but for every single muggle-born and muggle-raised...well, one page of homework per class was ridiculously simple.

Wednesday was Astronomy, a prep course for Astrology. And didn't _that_ throw the sparse skeptics for a loop? Every other day they had a class in Herbology, with Professor Sprout, where they learned about magical plants and how to care for them. As well as which can kill you, which happened to be most of them.

But it seemed like everyone absolutely loved and simultaneously hated History of Magic. Professor Binns often literally put students to sleep. While they enjoyed the downtime, they hated the fact that self-study was a requirement if they wanted to pass the tests. They tried to cut him some slack, seeing as how he's pretty damned old, but the students always had to fact check their notes seeing as how sometimes he got his facts wrong on occasion. Or the students themselves mixed up specific dates and names because of Binns not going into too much detail, or having way too much that the things all blurred together.

The Charms Professor was a half-goblin named Flitwick who was a decent chap overall. His first day had Harry exhausted though; apparently, he was so excited to teach Harry Potter that as soon as roll call was finished, the rumored ex-dueling champion had them practicing all the charms they knew on each other. The poor Muggle-born and raised students learned very quickly indeed that day.

Professor McGonagall practically scared the shit out of him, if he wasn't afraid that itself would bring her ire upon him. She was the best teacher he had ever even heard of though, as evident by his first class with her. On entry into her classroom, Harry was delighted to see that he shared a class with Hermione and immediately sat next to her at the very front, which was amazing since he usually sat in the middle of the back.

As they chatted about their schedules and how different each House was, they both noticed that McGonagall was strangely absent. The only thing the two seemed to see was a tabby cat sitting on her desk and looking around the room like a watchman. Harry almost thought it was Ms. Norris keeping an eye on everyone, but Hermione pointed out that it was a different cat breed altogether. Perhaps, Harry mused aloud, McGonagall was a cat lady that brought her pet to work every day. The joke made Hermione giggle, though he thought he saw the cat glare at him with a strict eye.

It was at this moment that the cat lost interest in Harry due to Ronald Weasley running into class. Late as usual. As he walked in and seemed to sigh with relief, he joked out loud that he was glad McGonagall was also late, earning him a few murmured agreements and chuckles from the other classmates. Weren't they in for a shock when the cat leaped off the table and morphed into Professor McGonagall before their very eyes!

"Bloody hell…that's brilliant." Ron whispered, breaking the silence.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley." Professor McGonagall smirked at the compliment. Clearly, seeing the looks of awe and shock from the new year students amused her greatly. However, the smirk vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. "Please take a seat, so we do not waste any more time."

As Ron quickly went to find a seat, she cleared her throat and addressed them. "First off, let me say thank you for coming to class and _not_ being absent. However, I would like to voice my concern with those of you who were tardy. First impressions are important, students, and I would advise you to not be late in the future for any of your classes."

"I'm sorry we were late, Professor." One student named Seamus Finnigan, a Gryffindor piped up.

McGonagall nodded at him. "Apology accepted. Though please raise your hand if you want to say something."

As she turned to write something on the board, Draco muttered something to Crabbe and Goyle, and they sniggered amongst themselves. Unfortunately for them, the professor had heard. "Perhaps, Mr. Malfoy, I should transfigure you into a pocket watch? That way you might be on time. Or perhaps a map, so you won't be lost?"

The class erupted into an assortment of responses from the teacher's sweet burn towards Malfoy. And as she brought her attention back to her students, Harry thought he saw McGonagall give a very subtle smug smile before that same stern expression etched back onto her face.

"Transfiguration is among the most dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. One small mistake could cause catastrophic damage." She glared at the students to get the message across that she wasn't one to cross. "Any student caught waving their wand about haphazardly will lose it. And then you will leave my class. **Permanently**. This is the same warning I will give to you every year."

Abruptly, McGonagall turned into the same tabby cat as before going back to normal again. Then, she changed the desk into a pig and back. While the fear was still there, the awe from earlier was present in full force. Most couldn't think of the practicality of desks to animals, but themselves into animals was a fantastic prospect, even if they wouldn't cover it this year. After roughly half an hour of note taking, they were all given a match with instruction to turn it to a needle, but not before they learned why they were learning this. Which cemented in their hearts and minds that she was the best teacher in the whole world.

"This first exercise is not one you will use often but is the first step to greater and more complex spells. Shape manipulation is not that complex, but wood to metal is more so. It isn't as complicated as turning inanimate to animate or even into living animals, but it will get you used to the act of changing one thing into another."

With her lesson done, she started walking around the room giving guidance to those who needed it. While the first one to get it was Hermione who was then soon followed by Harry, at least half of the class had done it by the end and all were awarded a smile from their teacher.

Harry couldn't lie: Professor McGonnagal's class was terrific. Still, he was an eleven-year-old boy, and no young boy would ever dare dream of not looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Obviously, it's a combat class, and in a combat class, they'd be learning battle spells. But other than that, the concept of the Dark Arts was also tantalizing. Reading about famous Dark Witches and Wizards, monsters and other otherworldly subjects…

He found himself raging to Polina later about the disappointment Quirrell was. Harry didn't grace him with the Professor title, and Draco agreed. You'd expect a school where an ex-dueling champion taught Charms to have a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that would be unparalleled. But nope. His room smelled like garlic, most likely because of the ridiculous amount of garlic literally hanging from the ceiling. Everyone worth their grain of salt knew that it's supposed to be to ward off vampires, however with a castle like Hogwarts, filled with other immensely powerful witches and wizards, a vampire coven or two could be handled with ease.

Then there was his turban. Quirrell had said that it came from an African prince as a gift for getting rid of a zombie. The zombie bit, people could buy. The African prince who gave him a turban? Not so much. This could have been because when all those fresh-faced young boys asked how he fought off the zombie…Quirrell did not answer. Harry found this quite odd. Nervousness could be understood when talking about a topic like this to someone new. But when you blush and change the subject of which you are supposed to teach people, then you are not a teacher.

Harry did find the learning curve of the students a bit funny though. A lot of the Pure-Blood witches and wizards were in awe at the sheer speed in which the muggle born and raised learned things. Often, they came and asked for tips. A lot of children just said to read a lot. It didn't really help them. The sheer number of things to learn kept them all at a relatively even level though. Well, for most of them anyway. Harry found that he, Hermione, Draco, and especially Polina found themselves far above the level of the other students.

All too soon for Harry's taste, it was Friday. Harry had been using most of his downtime helping Draco discreetly run away from Polina for a while now, without her knowledge of course.

It had all started during the second day of the school year. Harry was enjoying a nice break in-between classes by walking around outside in the courtyard. As he was counting how many stones it may have taken to build a particular archway and how old it may have been, he suddenly spotted Draco Malfoy run full sprint through the arch as if he was in the last hurdle for first place in a marathon. Panting for breath, he saw Harry and stood straight to try and act as if nothing happened. Harry thought that was peculiar, but when he heard Polina's voice call out for him, and how Draco reacted like a deer in the headlights before scrambling into a nearby bush to hide from the raven-haired admirer, he knew something had to be done to help his fellow classmate.

Most of the time, Harry would try to divert Polina's attention or help Draco find places to hide when she came near. And there were even moments when he would go out of his way to go with them as a group to at least put some pressure off the Malfoy boy. Polina was a good friend, but he had to sympathize with Draco by how she treated him and acted whenever he was near. She was…not _clingy_ …that wasn't the right word. One time, she almost had an idea that Harry was not telling the truth on where Draco was, and he could have sworn her eyes changed to something more feral and wild before she smiled sweetly and shrugged it off before going on her way. At any rate, Harry would sooner have an enemy out of Dumbledore than Polina. That much was certain.

Today was one of the days Harry decided to walk with his housemates on the way to a class. Well…it started as Draco and Harry. Polina seemed to just appear out of nowhere as usual.

"What are we doing today?" He asked Draco and Polina, the two cuddling as they walked. Well, Polina was cuddling Draco. He meanwhile had accepted defeat ten minutes ago and gave up for this round.

"Double potions with Gryffindor and then Ravenclaws," Draco answered. "It'll be an interesting day. Snape's the Head of our House, so we'll have an easy time of it with him. Same with the Ravenclaws since they usually keep to themselves and focus on work. But the Gryfs…well it won't be fun. They don't like us much, and some of the 'braver ones'…," he rolled his eyes and looked meaningfully at Ron as the red-head walked ahead of them at a good distance, "…might try and ruin our potions out of a sense of _duty_."

As they entered the Main Hall to have a round of breakfast, Draco sat in between one of his 'lackeys' Harry had seen from the Sorting Hat ceremony, a broad boy of muscle named Crabb, and Polina. Harry meanwhile sat on the opposite end of Polina, watching as the girl petted Draco's head and snuggled up close to him here and there during their meal, the boy in question looking as if he had an upset stomach.

"I had actually heard that Professor Snape and my father were schoolhouse enemies, so we might not have an easy time with it," Harry told them uneasily. No matter how much excitement Harry had over the last few days, he could not hide how nervous the head of their house made him. Snape always seemed to keep an extra eye on Harry, even more than the Tonks did. Having a class with the steely-eyed professor made Harry's own stomach do flip-flops in not-so-subtle terror.

While Harry spoke to the others, he missed Polina pick up her head and look over at the teacher's table. Sometime during the time they had gotten there to this very moment, Professor Statera had been noticeably absent. However, it seemed he had appeared as if from thin air. Polina's eyebrow raised at her uncle as their eyes met. Professor Statera's good eye twinkled merrily in response as he took a sip from his goblet with a dark smile.

It was then that the children were assaulted by flocks of owls. Harry liked saying this in his head better than, 'the mail arrived.' A lot of first-year students screamed when the owls came, which amused Harry and his friends greatly. Although, they could be forgiven for screaming when it looked like Alfred Hitchcock's movie came true and the owls were starting their revolt against humankind with the school as their first warzone.

It was more so for Harry because Hedwig often came in at this time, not to deliver his mail, but to eat some breakfast with him and generally listen to him talk about his fantastic time at Hogwarts. She sometimes even joined in, hooting at him at certain points of his tales.

Today was not one of these days. Hedwig dropped a letter onto his lap, grabbed some bacon, and sat there patiently. Bemused, Harry opened the note. The handwriting was pretty large and looked as if someone had practiced writing it repeatedly until it was neat as could be for fairly large writing.

 _Dear Harry,_

 _I had asked the other Professors when the best time to ask you this would be, so I'm pretty sure you have this afternoon off. Would you like to have a cup of tea today? Let's say anytime around three? I was friends with your parents and was there when you were given to the Tonks, so I'd like to know how you've been all these years. I'll wait for your reply, either yes or no, with Hedwig._

 _Cordially,_

 _Hagrid_

Harry grabbed one of Draco's quills, penned out a short 'Sure, I'd love to' on the back and gave it to Hedwig. The owl took it in her talons and immediately flew off to Hagrid's hut shortly after.

He was glad to have a good old British Tea Time to look forward to because Potions was a mess to deal with. Not the worst thing ever, but sweet Merlin was it a chore.

Professor Snape was someone Harry had seen many times, and each time he looked like how it felt to have Professor McGonagall be disappointed in you. The professor honestly _wanted_ to teach but didn't have the patience to deal with incompetence. Of which there was an abundance when dealing with unruly eleven-year-olds, of course.

He had to say though, Professor Snape did have this flair about him. As a Potions Master, the ambiance was terrific. Potions took place in the dungeons of the castle, and all the animal parts floating in glass jars increased the creepy in a good way factor.

Professor Snape started the class with a roll call. A few of the teachers seemed to delight in the fact that Harry was in their class, and with Harry hearing of the Professor's hatred of his father he expected some verbal vitriol to fly his way.

In this way, he was both disappointed and delighted, because he was treated quite normally. Professor Snape took roll, marked his name, and that was it.

He did have this resigned look to him though like something was going to go wrong for this class, but no one could fault him for thinking that. The Slytherins expected the Gryffindors to start something, so they prepared to retaliate, and the Gryffindors expected the Slytherins to start something, so they were preparing to start something before they got the chance.

With a dramatic robe twirl, Professor Snape addressed the class.

"Put your wands away, you will not need them in my class." He said with but a whisper and a subtle sneer. There was no doubt that the entire class was enthralled. "The art of potion making is a subtle science. Measurements must be exact. Some of you may hardly believe this is a magical class at all. And, to be quite honest, it isn't. It's chemistry. The effects of some potions are quite mundane, and some…" he trailed off. Only to whirl around, grab a potion, down it, and lit himself on fire.

The girls gasped in shock, and the boys were in awe.

"Some are quite magical." With a flick of his wand the fires disappeared. "Anything that can't be done with a wand can be done with a potion. The reverse holds true. I would _sincerely_ hope that by the end of your first year, you would hold the same reverence towards the subtle arts that I do." He glared at a few students he believed would be trouble. "If you doubt my words, heed this: With a cauldron, I can brew love, bottle luck, and even stopper _death_. You had all best keep your wits about you, for we shall learn to enhance even _that_ in a few short years."

Harry was enthralled. He knew his mother had a talent for magic that he had luckily inherited, and he had desperately penned down every word Professor Snape was saying. It was true for his companions as well, especially Polina. She seemed to have this weird glint in her eye…he thought she might have a passion for potions.

"To begin our lessons, look to the cabinets on either side of you." Professor Snape waited a few moments for the class to follow his instruction. "Inside you will find, clearly labeled, a jar of bezoars. For those of you who had read ahead, I'll permit you to inform the class of their purpose followed by where you would find them outside of this classroom."

Hermione's and Polina's hands shot into the air. Harry was about to raise his, but a foot stomped his own rather painfully. He gave his all not to make a noise as Polina held her foot in place, and glared at her as she smiled innocently. Polina was dangerous, that much Harry knew for sure. After that very rude stomp, he hoped Hermione would be called instead just to spite her.

Professor Snape looked around before his eyes settled on Polina, who was smiling brightly. "Yes, Miss Cura, you may answer."

Polina removed her foot from Harry's and cleared her throat. "A bezoar is used as a curative for most potions that cause harm, or any misbrewed potion. It isn't meant to be a full cure, however. It only reduces the effects of the mixture until medical professionals isolate the problem and fix it." She smiled brightly. "Any and every potion shop worth their names sell them in bulk, but if for some reason you find yourself drinking strange potions you find in the wilds…well personally I recommend laying down and waiting for the universe to cure your **stupidity** , but if you _must_ be saved, bezoars are found in the stomachs of goats."

A few students tittered with laughter, but a select few nodded at her flawless reasoning. You don't eat or drink strange things in the wilds. Hermione, however, looked a bit ruffled that she was beaten to an answer and just nodded along, accepting Polina as her newfound rival.

With a barely visible smirk, the Professor nodded. "Indeed. Well done, and take ten points for your answer."

The rest of the Potions class was…surprisingly pleasant. Well, for the Slytherins at least. For the poor Gryffindors, the lesson was a whole other beast altogether. Upon his intro to the class finished, Snape put all of the students into pairs for the assignment; today's lesson: a simple potion to cure boils. Harry was a bit nervous about Snape continually monitoring them, as he did that already as the Head of Slytherin House, but the worries melted away as he was paired up with Hermione. Even Draco seemed to be off to a good start, as Polina was matched up with the Gryffindor boy named Seamus instead of following him. At first, Polina looked mighty upset, but then she calmed down in an instant and followed the teacher's rules. Besides, Seamus turned out to not be too bad…for a Gryffindor.

Snape meanwhile swept around the dungeon, watching the students weigh ingredients and crush others. He gave some criticism, mostly to the Gryffindors, but the teacher apparently was feeling generous today. The Professor had told everyone how marvelously adept Polina was at Potion making, and how Malfoy and a few other students had stirred their ingredients perfectly. To Harry's joy, even he was given a subtle reassuring nod from Snape as he peeked into Hermoine and his' cauldron. Nothing seemed to deter the mood of Professor Snape.

That was, until a cloud of green smoke filled the room and a loud hissing assaulted everyone's ears. Much to the dismay of the Slytherins, it seemed that the pair of Ron and Goyle had somehow managed to melt the cauldron they shared into something similar to a twisting, blob of pewter while their potion oozed across the stone floor, burning holes in anything it came in contact with. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on the tables and stools in fear of their feet becoming the ooze's next victims, while Ron and Goyle moaned in pain as large boils began to pop up all over their exposed arms and legs.

"Fools!" The professor snarled as he began clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire? That's ten points lost for both of you!" When the two boys whimpered in reply, mostly due to boils now appearing on their noses, Snape let out a very angry huff as he turned to the first person he saw and narrowed his eyes at him. "You – Crabbe – take them to the hospital wing. Immediately!"

Vincent opened his mouth to argue but was kicked from behind by his potions partner before he could say something that he would regret. Instead, he nodded and escorted Ron and Goyle out of the class without another word and lessons resumed as usual. As they climbed out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry was frowning about how his House had technically lost ten points due to Draco's friends, but Hermione reminded him that the points could easily be won back since everyone was scored individually instead of as one big House. As they were told at The Great Hall on their first day: points lost meant others in your House would make sure you got them back, no matter what. While Harry no longer feared ghosts, the Bloody Baron _had_ killed once, so he didn't want to anger the ghost. Lest he leave Harry to the ire of Gemma Farley.

"That reminds me," Harry said as they walked toward the grounds for a break, "Would you like to come with me to meet up with a bloke called Hagrid? He sent me a letter earlier during breakfast, and he wanted to meet. Said he was a friend of my parents."

Hermione seemed delighted by the question, nodding. "I would love to! Be much nicer than going back to my House and staying in the Common Room all by myself for the whole night."

"You don't have any friends in your own House?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I do. A few. But they all have studying and other things going on." Hermione shrugged while adjusting her hair. "Honestly, I do need a break from studying so many things all at once. I mean, I love it, but even Dumbledore enjoys fresh air and human company."

Harry agreed; Hogwarts certainly was loading on the schoolwork for the first week. And he assumed it was only going to get harder from there.

At five to three, Hermione met up with Harry, and they both left the castle. Hagrid, according to an older student in Slytherin House, lived in a small wooden hut on the edge of the forbidden forest, which meant that they had to walk across the grounds to get to their destination. Halfway there, however, Draco had once again stumbled into Harry's path for the second time today and reluctantly agreed to accompany the two to escape Polina. Hermione was a bit…skeptical about being with the company of a Malfoy due to the reputation of his family, and Draco seemed to not like Hermione either for reasons of being raised by Muggles. He also voiced his thoughts on Hagrid, saying how his father called the gameskeeper an oafish idiot. However, when Harry told the two to behave and be nice just for one day, the two stopped bickering. It seemed social class was still a problem when Pure Blood families were concerned.

When Harry knocked on the door to Hagrid's abode, there was a small bit of silence before a frantic scrabbling followed several booming barks. A very gruff voice responded, saying, "Fang, get back here. Back."

A second voice seemed to laugh about something before the door was pulled open, a big, hairy face peering out from a crack the door made. "Hullo? Who is it?"

"Um…It's Harry. Harry Potter. You wrote to me this morning?" Harry answered, noticing a large black nose trying to push its way past the large frame of the man in the doorway.

"Oh! Pardon me, Harry. Just a second," Hagrid said before he looked down at the nose and pushed a bit with his knee. "Fang, get back. Back."

As soon as the three were let in, the face of an enormous black boar-hound greeted them with a sizeable whoofing bark. At the sight of the dog, Draco had flinched and recoiled slightly, worried the dog was going to pounce on him. Luckily, it seemed Hagrid had a firm grip on the dog's collar.

The inside of the hut was small like a one-room apartment. Hams and pheasants hung from the towering ceiling as a source of food, while a copper kettle was boiling over an open fireplace. And in the corner sat a massive bed big enough to fit three people.

It was at this moment that Harry and his friends realized how large Hagrid was. They had seen the giant at the opening ceremony, but now standing next to him, they agreed later that the man must have been a half-giant.

"Make yerselves at home," their gracious host said as he let go of Fang, who bounded straight at the still on edge Draco to lick his ears, which amused Hermione to some degree.

"Don't worry about ol' Fang. The big guy is as fierce as a teddy bear." A familiar voice said from nearby the fireplace. The sound made Harry turn, and he was surprised to see none other than Professor Statera sitting with a cup of tea and some sort of large lump with raisins in it on a crude looking stone plate.

"Professor Statera?" Hermione asked with a look of surprise, which Draco also shared. "We weren't interrupting something, were we?"

"Just call me Zaine, thank you." The professor smiled and took a bite from the lump he picked up off his plate. He seemed to have trouble chewing it but didn't mind all too much.

"If you were, I woulda turned you away at the door." Hagrid chuckled, motioning for them to sit down before pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes (as that was what the shapeless lumps were) on a plate for himself and the three students.

"Hagrid invited me to tea so we could discuss some stuff between friends. That, and he wanted to try a special blend of tea my sister made recently." Zaine nodded to the teapot. "Her tea is always unique since it changes every time she makes it, so not even she can determine the flavor every batch. This one, however, is a lovely chamomile with accents of honey and lemon." Taking a sip and resting back more into his seat, the professor nodded at Draco and Hermione. "Who are these fresh faces?"

"This is Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger," Harry told them, accepting his tea and cakes with a thank you. "You remember her from the bookshop, don't you?"

Zaine turned his good eye up to the ceiling, clearly thinking back a few days. Finally, he nodded. "Ah, yes. She was there with McGonagall." A small raise of his cup. "Howdy do."

"A Malfoy, hmm?" said Hagrid, glancing at Draco with a look that spoke volumes.

Before Malfoy could say anything on the subject of his birth name, Professor Statera interrupted by asking how classes went and if there was anything fun going on. Harry and the others went on about classes and how they all seemed to enjoy their first lessons in them. Even Hermione admitted that Professor Snape's lesson in Potions wasn't as dreaded as the legends she had heard before class had started.

At this, Professor Zaine seemed to snicker to himself after commenting that Snape was all bite, but no venom…which made Harry and Draco both roll their eyes at the obvious Slytherin jab. The first-years then also described the common rooms and were surprised by each other's answers, with Zaine telling them tales about the Hufflepuff side of it all and how they knew the secret entrance to the kitchens and other areas where food was provided. All the while, Fang seemed to enjoy sitting near Malfoy with his large head on the blonde boy's knee, drool going all over his robe much to Malfoy's dismay.

And they were all delighted to hear Hagrid and Zaine agree that Filch was known around the school as "that old git," though the Professor was a bit more lenient on the old man due to his job requiring him to deal with troublemakers who are at least a little adept at magic. To this, Harry had to agree; he could not imagine how horrid that job actually would be.

"Same goes fer that ol' cat," Hagrid harrumphed as he bit into a rock cake, apparently not going off the topic just yet. "D'yeh know, every time I go ter the school for somethin', she follows me everywhere as if she is waiting fer me to do somethin' and catch me in the act. I'd like ter introduce her to Fang…"

The dog gave a growl in approval at his Master's words.

"At least you didn't have Filch mistaking you for a student at one point," Zaine muttered softly as he finished the rock cake he was working on before refilling his teacup. "Such a bloody annoyance." As he finished filling his cup, he realized Hagrid was glaring in his direction and gave the half-giant a casual smile and an apology for the language while opening up a newspaper that was on the table they were sitting at.

When Zaine placed the newest Daily Prophet on his lap to take with him, Harry noticed a bit of the clipping:

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST

"Professor Zaine?" Harry asked suddenly, pointing. "What is that all about?"

It was at that moment that Hagrid and Zaine exchanged a rather curious look. Hermione and Draco noticed the silence that entered the hut and joined in Harry's curiosity.

Professor Statera broke the silence as quickly as it happened, waving his hand to dismiss it. "Just another break-in at a bank. Nothing special." He noticed Harry about to ask something else and cut him off before the young man could utter a word. "Now, before anything else happens, I should point out that it is getting late and dinner will start soon. You all go on ahead and get yourselves up to your common rooms before ol' Filch comes after you. Hagrid and I will be there soon once we finish some Hogwarts business about the grounds near the forbidden forest."

Draco was the first to leave, considerably happy since he was finally able to get the massive dog away from him. Hermione and Harry meanwhile were kind enough to say goodbye and to take the rock cakes that Hagrid offered, promising to come back for a visit soon when they had more time to talk. Harry could not understand how Professor Statera could eat the cakes; they were literally as hard as their namesake and almost broke their teeth when they tried to have a few. Hagrid having them that hard made some logical sense due to him being a half-giant: stronger bones and muscle and all that. But Professor Statera only seemed a bit older than they were. For him to have such jaw strength was a feat in of itself!

"Rubbish, the lot of it," Draco muttered as they walked back to the castle in their little group.

"What is?" Harry asked.

"He is talking about how the break-in was average and not a big deal." Hermione looked seriously at him. "You saw the way Professor Statera and Hagrid looked at each other when you asked about it. This is something big."

Harry had to admit, that did feel a bit strange.

She pressed the issue further. "Gringotts is one of the most heavily fortified banks in all the world, both Wizarding and Muggle based. For someone to get inside that fortress and steal something…they would have to be one powerful wizard or witch."

"Kind of impressive, actually." Draco nodded and gained a look of approval on his face.

"Okay, sure. But we still don't know what the article was about." Harry countered. "We can talk all we want about this, but this particular one may just be your average break-in. It does happen all the time."

Draco shrugged, "Potter has a point."

"Before we came to tea today," Hermione began again, talking softer so only they could hear, "I overheard some of my Housemates in the common room discussing it. It apparently happened a while ago, and nothing seemed to be taken."

"Nothing at all?" Draco asked curiously. "You sure you heard them right, Granger?"

Harry gained an odd look before he looked back at Hermione. "You sure there was nothing taken?"

She nodded. "The spokesgoblin the Prophet interviewed stated that the vault that had been searched had been emptied that same day. He also stated that no one should poke their noses into it further if they knew what was good for them, but that is not really relevant at the moment."

As Draco rolled his eyes, Harry had to think hard about all this. Before he came to Hogwarts, Professor Statera had emptied out a secret vault, warning Harry not to mind it since it was Hogwarts business. Harry didn't know the exact day of the crime, but if he had to guess it would probably have been the same day as their trip there. Big coincidence, sure, but what if the item was what the thieves were searching for? What if Zaine had grabbed it just in time and they barely missed the break-in taking place? What was the item they grabbed and where was it now?

Harry surmised that none of the lessons he had learned this week had so far given him as much to think about as the small visit for tea at Hagrid's.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry Potter and First The Rejection of Canon

Chapter Nine:

The Midnight Duel

It was an odd friendship Harry struck up with Draco Malfoy; honestly, the term "friend" seemed like a little much though. But not even Voldemort deserved to be subjected to Polina. She was without a doubt his best friend, but whenever Draco was around...there are things better left unsaid. She knew things, things that not even some of the professors knew.

"Oi, Harry!" Draco ran up to Harry enthusiastically, practically yelling. "I've got the schedule. We've got flying lessons this week!"

Harry did not share this enthusiasm. Because Harry, you see, had a fear of heights. Yes, Harry 'The-Man-Of-Many-Hyphened-Nicknames' Potter was afraid of heights. There's a story behind that. But if we told you all the stories about Harry Potter that wasn't about him fighting He-Who-Also-Has-A-Hyphened-Nickname it would take about seven more books. Or maybe eight movies with a spin-off that was itself a story worth seven books, eight movies, and many spin-offs.

Draco continued, not even waiting for Harry to say a word. "Have I told you about the time I almost got run over by a Muggle Flying MachineTM?"

Good Lord, he had. About a hundred times by now. It was always the same story with a hundred different variations. Even though it always ended with him barely escaping his death by Helicopter. And Heaven forbid anybody mentions anything _remotely_ sounding like the word Quidditch because he will go on and on and on. It was like Quidditch was the only sport in the magical world!

At least Harry wasn't alone in his suffering. Every single muggle adjacent person in Hogwarts had to suffer through every other student talking about the time they _just_ managed to escape certain death on a broom. Though that Ron fellow was the worst and the least believable of the lot. He honestly expected people to believe he outflew the military; not just a plane or a jet, but all the jets apparently.

Harry tried to bring up other sports like soccer, but no one seemed to share his interest. What was wrong with soccer? A lot apparently, according to Draco. One ball, no flying, and too many teams.

Polina though said her extended family essentially gave her flying lessons that put her on par with professionals. In fact, she said she had a few lessons _with_ the professionals. Draco was put out for quite a while.

Harry did find a kindred spirit in Hermione Granger, who he was coming to like more and more every day, about to rival Polina as his best friend. She was a buoy of normal in a sea of...well, Hogwarts. Although a little _too_ into reading, that was the worst thing you could say about her. She was studious. And the lectures she gave out when reading was simply divine. Well, lectures may be too strong a word. She had a habit of talking out loud when reading, and because she read faster than she spoke, she had to summarize it before speaking which was fantastic to listen to.

Currently, she was reading a book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_. It was full of exciting Quidditch facts, but nothing so far on flying tips. She had just gotten to the part about famous flying fiends when she was interrupted by the worst of them. **Mail owls**.

As usual, Draco got plenty of sweets. And as usual, Polina hit him with a glare the likes of which can melt steel. And as _as_ usual, Draco forked over half his sweets.

Neville, a few tables over, received a small package from his grandmother. He had just opened it to find a little glowing ball, filled with white smoke. "Oh, Gran..." Neville smiled wistfully. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he addressed the few curious Hufflepuffs. "It's a Remembrall. The smoke glows red when you've forgotten something." He gazed to the side and smiled fondly, remembering all the times with his grandmother and her own Remembrall.

"Like it is now?" A fellow student asked him curiously.

His smile dropped immediately. "Er...yes?"

A Hufflepuff further down the table chipped up. "Oh! I get it! The smoke forms words into what you've forgotten!"

Neville disabused him swiftly. "No, you are supposed to remember. Although I do wonder how it is you are supposed to remember what you've forgotten!"

A few frowns on the table joined Neville on what could have possibly been forgotten. The shy, tentative voice belonging to Hannah Abbott spoke up. "Your robes?"

Neville looked down. Indeed, he was not wearing his robes, just the casual clothes that are worn underneath the robes. His palm was introduced to his face, and quite a few students giggled as he raced back to his dorm to put on his robes as fast as he could; Hogwarts' dress code was surprisingly strict, considering they have a spell to turn a solenodon into school appropriate robes.

Eventually, the clock struck three-thirty-two-and-eleven-point-eight which meant it was time for the flying lessons. Harry, Draco, Polina and the rest of the Slytherins made it onto the field first. There they found around twenty broomsticks waiting in elegant lines. Some students said that the school brooms were old and outdated, didn't perform properly. However, Harry had an epiphany while thinking about it. He nudged Draco and gestured to Polina to pay attention to him.

"Hey, I heard that these brooms start to shake if you go too high, and tend to lean to the left, right?"

Draco blinked for a moment at the last part of that sentence and stuttered out a, "Yes?"

Harry nodded to himself. "What if they did that on purpose?" At their bewildered looks, he elaborated. "So, us being eleven or so, and none of the students here play Quidditch professionally, they don't want any student to make off with a broom and accidentally kill themselves. So, the broom doesn't go too high. And for those who _do_ fly or play professionally, making constant minor adjustments because of a faulty broom would help you because when you don't need to make it for the broom, you'll be doing it for the wind. Which would make you a slightly better flyer."

Draco gained a look on his face that was equal parts amazed, horrified, proud, gleeful, and in awe. Polina, meanwhile, giggled at her husbando's face.

Madam Hooch arrived and was prepared to deliver her usual command but was entirely _unprepared_ for the faces of all the students which looked at her with awe and respect she's never seen in any first-year class. She stuttered out, "Er, t-to your brooms students!" She tried to bark it out with a glare and was again unprepared for each and every student to take her command as Holy Writ and jump to their broom.

Harry took a chance and glanced at his broom. Staring with an oddly smug/proud expression at the broom, seemed to make it vibrate. Before his eyes, the twigs straightened out and seemed to de-age.

The Professor stared at all the brooms in shock, she whispered, "By Merlin, what the devil happened to the ratty-ass brooms!?"

For the sake of the readers, allow us to explain something. The broomsticks are not charmed to be…er, 'ratty-ass' on purpose. The school board did not want to pay for new brooms, considering they still had to pay a dead person to teach history. Hogwarts is a _public_ school after all, and since they don't have an art department they can cut, the board decided to cut the sports department.

Horrifying, I'm sure.

But accidental magic is still goddamn **magic** , so when seventy-two students believe the brooms are better than they look, the magical brooms _become_ better. The power of belief was not to be underestimated, especially when done by a pat of students. None of this information was known to Madam Hooch, however. After a few moments of dumb-founded awe, she squeaked, "Say 'up'."

Filled with confidence that the brooms were perfectly safe, everyone shouted 'up' and up the brooms went. Even Harry's broom, who was afraid of heights. Harry, not the broom. A broom afraid of heights makes no sense.

Madam Hooch, deciding that the castle was being weird again, got over her shock. With a sigh, she walked down the line of students and began teaching them how to mount their brooms. Harry snickered when she saw that every single pure-blood who boasted about their flying skills had to be corrected, including Draco. Polina, however, needed no instruction. As usual. When she saw all the students with the proper grasp on the brooms, she addressed them again. "Alright students, when I blow my whistle, push off the ground. _Gently,_ mind you. Push off too hard, you will soar far above what the brooms are supposed to handle."

None of the students believed her, obviously; the brooms can easily handle a hundred feet, minimum.

"Since this is your first class, I want you to only go up a few feet. Remember to pull the brooms back into proper position when they lean and come down by again, gently leaning forward. Ready, on three. One." She glared with hawk-like eyes to deter a few students who looked as if they were about to push off early. "Two."

Hooch missed Neville though because he pushed off the ground as hard as he could. He had thought, him not being as powerful a wizard as Harry "Get-Down-Off-That-Dragon" Potter (he read a few fictional Harry Potter books, sue him) thought he needed an extra boost. Madam Hooch dropped her whistle in horror as the school broom rocketed off the ground fifty feet in a second, and a hundred in two. She saw Neville Longbottom reach the top of Hogwarts Castle and let go of his broom. This, unfortunately, reintroduced him to the concept of gravity.

Being well above the ground, and out of fucks to give, Madam Hooch swiftly withdrew her wand and murmured a spell. It slowed Neville enough that by the time he noticed gravity applied to him again he was floating down as gently as a feather. His broomstick, without a rider, began listing lazily to the left before sputtering out and falling just as Neville was.

When Neville touched the ground, his face was red. Most likely because quite a few students were snickering at the broom, which began orbiting around Neville. He turned to glare at the broom with his face still red. "I'm not fat, I'm pudgy! Merlin damn it!" He whispered venomously.

Draco leaned down to pick something up. "Oi! Longbottom! Did you forget something?" He asked cheekily.

Neville, still slightly upset, glared at Draco. "No, **Malfoy**. I certainly did _not_ forget anything."

The sneaky Slytherin grinned. "You sure? Check your Remembrall." And then, he tossed said Remembrall to Neville.

Neville, still seething with mild irritation, lashed out and caught the Remembrall with one hand while still glaring at Draco.

Harry giggled madly with his eyes shut. So madly, in fact, he fell backward onto his broom which didn't so much as twitch. With a stomp of his foot, he started rising off the ground, first twelve feet, then twenty… Madam Hooch kept her wand pointed at Harry in case he needed it. Neville though, fit to burst, threw the Remembrall at Harry. "Potter! Catch!" He regretted it instantly because, eyes still closed and twenty feet in the air, Harry _still_ caught it. Trying to get his giggles under control, Harry leaned forwards slightly and began drifting slowly to the ground. His timing was impeccable because by the time he landed on the ground he had opened his eyes.

Madam Hooch cocked her eyebrow at him, somewhat impressed. "Mister Potter, I recommend you try out for Quidditch next year. I dare say you might make it."

Harry paled. "Er...no thank you, Madam Hooch. I've...er...got a fear of heights." The students goggled at Harry "Best-Quidditch-Player-in-a-Century" Potter admitting to not like flying. Those fictional books get around, okay?

Dinnertime had rolled around, and amid eating his roll, Harry had finally explained his fear of heights to anyone who cared to listen. Which, as we know, was probably a lot of people. You as readers missed out because we said we weren't going to bother writing about it. Instead, you get this:

"Bullshit!" Exclaimed Draco.

"All true." Harry nonchalantly sipped his goblet.

"But the pirate ship-" Crabbe paled.

"Yep." Harry said.

"And the taco shells?" Pansy slipped out.

"All over the poop deck." Harry took a bite of his chocolate pudding.

"But the Mongolian Hordes?!" A seventh year exclaimed.

"That sounds worse than it was," Harry sighed, "but yes the Mongolian tourists did get a mite angry."

Polina sat with an expression carved from stone. This sounded like something her Uncles would cause. And knowing how they usually were, she was probably right.

Fred and George, who came over to listen to this epic tale, were bowing to Harry for being the epicenter of such chaos that it caused the French to denounce parkour until the Russians gave back The Statue of Liberty. The replica from Vegas, not the real one. Obviously.

Ron, however, had had enough of Harry "I-Swear-I'm-Just-a-Normal-Boy" Potter. He stomped over to the Slytherin table who were all slack-jawed still. "Oi Potter, Malfoy! You, me, Neville, and a wizard's duel in the Trophy Room after curfew at midnight!" And off he went before anyone could say anything resembling a "no" to that statement of insanity. Ron had a cunning plan you see. He would tell a teacher that students were planning to be in the Third Floor Trophy Room, get them all in trouble, and laugh as they got sent away.

He was ignorant of the fact that the teachers had overheard him, as he was still in the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall sighed, just sighed, as the other teachers snickered.

In horror, Hermione ran up to the table and shoved Draco to the floor so she could hug Harry, sobbing. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I was shocked and couldn't stop him, and now your magic has bound you to the Wizard's Duel!"

Harry looked confusedly at Draco, still on the floor. The blond blinked, then shrugged.

"Er...Hermione?" Harry gasped out as Hermione was still crushing his ribs. "That isn't a thing..."

She hugged him harder as his ribs groaned and sobbed even louder. "Yes, it is! I read it in _Harry Potter and the Wizards of Waverly Place_! All magic users challenged to a duel are bound by a magical contract and forced to the conditions set! You've said so yourself!"

He blinked and forced out, with the little breath he had. "Hermione, those books are _fiction_."

Grip slowly loosening, Hermione hiccupped and stopped sobbing. "What?" She sniffled.

"Er...I've never done anything in any of those books." He gulped down air as inconspicuously as he could.

That ended as Hermione's already monstrous grip increased ten-fold, venomously whispering. " ** _What_**?"

Harry squeaked. "I've never even met the author of those books, um...Oh yeah, Gilderoy Lockhart! Nope, never met him."

Hermione's glare chilled his very _soul_ as if her entire being was a single lidless eye he couldn't look away from, grip impossibly tightening. _Again_. "Harry James Potter those books were in the non-fiction section of the bookstore. Are you telling me that every single book written about you by Gilderoy Lockhart was... ** _false_**?!"

Polina pipped up, raising a hand. "All his other books too. _Everyone_ knows it." All of the Houses, save Ravenclaw, nodded. This prompted some of the upper year Ravenclaws to look at their copies of Gilderoy Lockhart's _Wand Measuring with Wizards starring Harry Potter_ in open mouth horror.

One of the other Slytherins was going to point out that there was indeed a wizard's duel rule in the 1938 novel, _The Once and Future King Book 1: The Sword in the Stone_ by T.H. White. She never got the chance though because at that moment Hermione let out an animalistic screech similar to her House's mascot animal and just fucking _flew_ to her dorm to throw out the blasphemous works of what she perceived now as the Devil himself. She was soon followed by most of the other Ravenclaws, who had the same idea. The rest of the castle was not entirely sure, but the well-respected Filius Flitwick swore that the common room had become what he described as a 'book burning that rivaled the destruction that befell the Library of Alexandria.'

Much later, in his dorm, Harry was shaken awake by Draco. "Hey Harry, want to stake out the Trophy Room?"

Harry deadpanned at his third-best friend, though he wouldn't tell Draco that. "Draco that's a stupid idea. Let's do it."

The duo of eleven-year-old children who did not have any sort of parental authority to fear of, being in a secluded castle in Scotland away from their parents, jumped on the chance to do something stupid. So, they threw on their slippers, grabbed their wands, and headed down to the Common Room.

They had almost left the portrait when a blood-curdling voice spoke from the shadows.

"Oooh, Draaaaco~!"

The boys froze in horror. As one, they turned to the couches. There, sitting by a recently turned on lamp and wearing a pink bathrobe and a green face-mask etched with an eerie smile, was their worst nightmare. _It_ was accompanied by the already eerie aquarium that was the Slytherin common room and its foreboding lighting.

"And just _what_ are you two doing?" The smile grinned wider to Cheshire cat levels.

Harry leaned towards Draco, never taking his eyes off the most dangerous thing he's ever seen. "If we run back to the dorm, I'll sacrifice myself so you can get to safety." He whispered.

Draco nodded, tears glistening in his eyes. "I'll never forget your sacrifice, Harry, my friend."

Polina rolled her eyes, standing up. Even with a normal look on her face, that green face mask was still terrifying. " _Victor_ , boys calm down. I smelled an adventure, so I rushed down here for dramatic and comedic effect." The girl then ripped off her face-mask in a rather impressive way and grabbed both boys by the arm, dragging Harry and Draco out the common room before they could ask how she expertly peeled off the mask in one go and who Victor was. _And_ why she was still wearing her bathrobe.

"Come on, boys! Let us cause some sweet, sweet **chaos** before we inevitably get in trouble!" Polina was utterly oblivious that both boys were completely limp, resigned to their fate. From out of the shadows of their common room, there came a whispering dark giggle as the painting closed behind them as if further sealing them to their fate.

For as spritely and chaotic as Polina could be, she was surprisingly adept at avoiding Filch. She made random turns here and there, and they hadn't passed a single painting, so their walk through the dark and quietly eerie castle was rather enjoyable. 'Walk' is a strong term, as the boys were still being dragged.

Soon enough, they were near the trophy room. Ron was there, as was Neville _and_ Hermione. She was glaring at the boys, who tried to stand tall in the face of such severe disapproval. None of them seemed to notice the Slytherins, which was fair since they had snuck up behind the group and were standing a few feet away around the corner.

Ron whispered to Neville. "They aren't here. You think they chickened out?" He sounded incredibly smug.

Neville shook his head. "They wouldn't be in Slytherin if they had any intention of coming to a straight fight. They'd probably flagged down Filch and told him where to find us so we could get in trouble."

Draco smacked his head. That sounded like something he would've and _should've_ done.

"Ahem!"

A sudden loud cough sounded from behind the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Then as one they turned to focus on what now was in front of them. All three shared the same deer-in-the-headlights-stare as Professor Statera turned the other corner in an almost dramatic entrance complete with what they all swore was the proper music to accompany it. To be fair, they were glad they had not been caught by someone like Filch or Professor Snape. But Zaine was a professor and a very highly respected one at that. No doubt there was going to be some sort of punishment in store for them, even if he was dressed in a black undershirt and what looked like shorts an athlete would wear.

The blond stopped a step or two away from the three and crossed his arms, looking very stern. Since their time at Hogwarts, no one had ever asked why Professor Statera had a scar on his face, or how the scarred eye looked beyond fixing but still somehow functioned as a normal eye. Those questions would have been rude, of course. Still, it unnerved many of the students and some teachers how his face looked in certain lighting. Tonight, was one of those nights.

"What's all this then? Students awake and roaming around after hours? Tsk, tsk…"

Ron started to say something, but Zaine raised a finger, shushing him immediately. "You don't need to say anything, Mister Weasley. You _did_ yell out to the entire Great Hall that you and your cohorts were going to be here." When Ron looked down in both embarrassment and annoyance, his gaze turned to Hermione and the eyebrow on the side of his face that was scarred raised a little. "However, I honestly did not expect _you_ to be here, Hermione Granger… able to explain yourself, hm?" As he asked this, both eyes seemed to twinkle with merriment. No, wait; the effect was only the shiny trophies reflecting off them.

Hermione blushed as she was put on the spot. "I wanted to convince Ron that they shouldn't go out, but he wouldn't listen. So, I snuck out to follow him out to try _again._ And Neville was there, and then when I saw it wasn't working, I turned around and rushed back to my House so as to not get in trouble for _their_ incessant rule-breaking. But I couldn't get back in, because the portrait chose a riddle I couldn't figure out, that turned out just to be a 'pun' type answer, so I decided to follow them because they were plotting to attack my bestest friend ever, and I was having _none of that._ If you must, go ahead and banish _them_ from Hogwarts, just please, oh _please_ don't take away too many points from me! My parents are so proud that I'm doing well, and I don't want to disappoint them!" She ended her rant somewhat hysterically and with a few tears in her eyes.

Professor Zaine took her explanation and looked at the boys with a furrowed brow as if to confirm her story, to which they gave a small but confused nod. He then looked at Hermione again and gave her a very kind smile. "Well if the story checks out, then you are in the clear, Miss Granger." He then ruffled the girl's hair with a chuckle, "Trust me, if I took away points for people who were unable to get back into their common room because the portraits were on break or being kinda douchey, Hogwarts would name me as a replacement for ol' Filch. And trust me, I like my current job too much to even _think_ about roaming the silent dark halls of some dangerous magical castle with nothing to protect me other than my wits and a lantern."

His piece said, he then turned to the two boys and frowned, stern demeanor returning. "You both, however, have no such excuse. I hereby deduct _ten_ points from each of you." Zaine seemed to peer past them then, his voice growing louder. "And that includes _you_ : Harry, Draco, and Polina!" As the three Slytherins fell into sight, the professor gave a snickering laugh from their reactions and Polina's childish pout. Just because he was her uncle, it seemed Professor Statera treated her like every other student when it came to rules. Sometimes.

"Alright, back to your dorms, the lot of ya! I'll make sure you can all get back in, so off you go." He walked away with a merry wave.

With her uncle gone, Polina bounded over in two giant strides and grabbed Hermione, walking over to Harry and Draco with her in tow. "Come on Hermione, we need another girl, or it would be uneven. The _other_ boys can find their way back themselves." She then stopped and turned around, placing her hands on her hips while glaring balefully at the retreating back of Neville and Ron, who decided to be smart about the situation they were in and follow the Professor. "You two really shouldn't drag people around you know, it's quite rude!"

Meanwhile, Harry had put a sympathetic hand on Hermione while Draco sighed and shook his head. "Come on, let's just go before we lose any more sleep or run into Filch and Ms. Norris." With a yawn, Draco turned and walked away. Right into a door.

Polina gasped and fussed over Draco while Harry approached the door and looked around. He frowned. "Guys. This is the Forbidden 'On Pain of Painful Death' Door."

Hermione gasped. Clearly the castle had it in for her tonight.

In the midst of her fussing, Polina froze and gazed pensively at the door. After a moment or two, she spoke. "You guys want to check it out?"

The three turned to stare incredulously at her until Draco spoke up before Harry. "Polina, dear, we are four eleven-year-olds with _little_ magical training, and that's a door that invites Death. **Yes**. Yes, we do want to see what's on the other side of the door."

Hermione looked at Draco horrified, then turned to Harry to see his reaction hoping her bestie had enough sense to not tempt death. Or worse, _expulsion_. She nearly fainted when she saw he was nodding in agreement. Looking around one more time to take stock of her options, she lowered her head and sighed. "Alight, move over. I'll get it open." If she couldn't count on Harry to save himself, she'd just eliminate whatever was threatening their _friendship._ She approached the door, tapped it with her wand and morosely said, "Alohomora."

The lock clicked open, and they all meandered through the doorway.

At the sudden sound of something huge and heavy waking up, Hermione instantly regretted her decision and whimpered. There, in front of her, was a nightmare: twenty feet tall, three heads, six eyes, too many teeth. She remembered a passage from a textbook she read about Greek mythology. It was **Cerberus**. The Guardian of Hell. She knew, there and then, she was going to die. She would be eaten, they were all going to be eaten, and there was nothing anyone could do about-

"Aw, who's a good boy! You are, yes you are!" Harry was cooing at it. Petting it. _Scratching_ it. She looked toward Polina, who was...oh.

"What a cute doggy! I'mma keep 'im!" She was petting the left head.

All ignored Draco, who fainted on the spot. He doesn't like dogs, okay?

That was the _last_ **_straw_**. Hermoine threw rationality out the window and walked up to the last head on the right. She began petting it and tried to ignore the tongues hanging from its three mouths and the short stubby tail wagging.

They had stayed there for maybe ten minutes, each passing down a line so they could all get a turn petting each head of the beast. Finally, the children turned to say goodbye, pat it one more time, and then all walked out the door to head back to their rooms while Polina dragged Draco yet again.

Harry turned to the group to ask them a question. "Do you think it's here for Defense? Or a class on magical creatures?"

Hermione sighed. "Oh, Harry. You need to pay more attention to your surroundings. It was sitting on a trap door. It's a **Cerberus** , and those things are _specifically_ meant to guard things. So that 'instant death' is more than likely a multi-tiered thing, I'd wager. Protecting...something." She shouldn't have said that. Really, she shouldn't have.

Harry thought that it was something valuable. Draco, sensing something like possible treasure, awoke immediately. They were all well off, Harry believed _himself_ more than anyone. Polina figured it would be an excellent bonding experience for her and Draco to get that treasure. And Hermione piqued her own curiosity by saying it out loud. What was the treasure?

Then came a sudden thought. Maybe it was the package from the vault Professor Zaine visited?


	10. Chapter 10

Harry Potter and First the Rejection of Canon

Chapter Ten:

Troll Trouble

The next day in the Great Hall, Hermione reaffirmed to herself that she really shouldn't have said anything. There, at the Slytherin Table, Polina was wildly gesticulating about the adventure they were going to have. Harry and Draco sat there, nodding rapturously. Hermione herself knew she was going with them. Soon, so very soon, all magical knowledge would belong to her including...no. _Especially_ what was hidden under the stairs, or she wasn't **The Dark Lord Sauron**!

...She really needs to stop reading so late at night, she can get so _into_ it the following day.

Meanwhile, at the previously stated Slytherin Table, Draco had brought up the subject of what the thing could be. Harry told Draco and Polina his suspicion that Professor Zaine brought it in from Gringotts, and that it was likely the same thing that would have been stolen from the then emptied vault. Surely, Hogwarts had a better protection plan than Gringotts; people are worth more than money after all. No one could possibly endanger any student in a high-profile school like Hogwarts! It isn't like Gringotts had fantastical protections like a dragon or two, and Hogwarts was a sentient castle! It can **definitely** stop anyone from wandering in and stealing such a valuable, and probably dangerous magical artifact!

"Blimey, the thing must be enormous! How big was it, Harry? Person sized? Did Professor Zaine need to use long forgotten spells to lift it from the vault and place it in a sub-dimension warded all to hell and back?" Draco asked excitedly.

"Nah, a couple inches tall and long. He put it in his pocket." Harry swiftly dashed Draco's dreams. Although from the teachers' table, someone choked on their drink.

A few days passed as the trio tried to figure out what the magical thing could be. Well, sort of. It covered a few minutes a day at most, but most of the time in the Great Hall was with Harry and Polina discussing the non-magical world with Draco.

...For fuck's sake, we've been with these kids for a while now, haven't we? What use is it to point at Draco and say, 'Haha what an ignorant pure-blood'? We _know_ , we've done that bit already. Fuck it, let's go hang at the teachers' table for a bit.

* * *

Dumbledore was going over the school's budget when Professor Snape again brought up wanting to have first year's try out for Quidditch. With a sigh, he addressed him. "Severus let me say again: Hogwarts is a _public_ school. We are funded by _the government_ , and they can't afford **another** lawsuit when an inexperienced first year falls off the broom or is knocked off that broom by a _sentient_ **leather** **ball** flying at their face. Any student who wants to try out must have at _least_ a year of flying experience under a _licensed_ instructor, and their parents _must_ fill out a waiver. I know you want Harry and Draco on the team, Merlin knows the Slytherins could use some _real_ cunning in their matches, but don't forget that Harry's guardian is a fucking **lawyer**. We'll get our asses handed to us if we break the rules ' _just this **once**_.' Discussion over, you can wait till next year." Smack-down laid, he returned to the budget.

"...Er...Headmaster?" a voice said from down the table.

Le sigh. "Yes Rolanda?" he said as he put the reports away for a later time; clearly, he wasn't going to go over them anytime soon.

"I was wondering if you could tell us about what happened to the brooms? Did Hogwarts decide to add more magic to them?" She said a bit bashfully. Dumbledore never did like being interrupted with silly questions, and this felt like one of them.

"Oh no, Hogwarts is a sentient castle, but it isn't _sapient_. And it's limited in sentience anyway. Please remember that though this castle was built by the Four Founders, if we were to go back in time to their age, we would find them quite _primitive_. While it was a miracle of magic at the time, the budget we have can only do so much, so the ward schemes haven't been updated in... Let's see...yes, a hundred and fifty years. We simply don't have enough money to hire someone to put up a simple ward as, say, troll repellent!"

It was at this moment that Professor Quirrell choked on his drink, and, unseen, Voldemort seethed. He thought he was _so_ clever bypassing the wards with the second troll. On the other hand, that means that Hogwarts is largely undefended then…

Look, _we_ know Voldemort's there. We all know. Accept it and move on. The turban ain't hiding _anything_.

"Of course, this will change next year, as I've petitioned the I.C.W. to make such things mandatory. Why we'll be able to keep out everything from Acromantulas to Dark Spirits possessing people!" Quirrell choked again, and Dumbledore hid a grin. He hadn't had this much fun trolling Dark Wizards since he convinced the world he was once Grindlewald's lover! Honestly, the things people could fall for. He could do so much better, like that busboy in Havana some forty years ago. Where was he? Oh yes, trolling Voldemort.

"I say Quirinus, perhaps you should slow down. You only live once after all, and it isn't like you have a few soul containers lying around to bring you back! Why can you even imagine...I dread what Voldemort might do if he had one. Merlin forbid _more_ than one; it's not exactly written down or common knowledge, but you lose half your soul each time you perform the ritual. If he made let's say...six or so, you'd have such a small and fragile soul that a bit might just pop off every time you successfully cast a killing curse. And it's likely that the spell after would end in such a horrible fashion that even the killing curse would be rebounded! Like what happened to Harry Potter I suppose...but obviously it isn't the case as Harry's mother's love saved him." He swallowed a giggle at that. A mother's love? Where did he come up with that? Lily was such a bright young thing, and James was such a scamp. She probably had him break into his office to steal his copy of _12 Uses of Dragon's Blood_ , as one of which was the basis of a protection ritual involving a child's parents sacrificing themselves to save their child from all possible unnatural deaths, utilizing the same principals as the Felix Felicis potion.

Voldemort froze in terror. How could Dumbledore know he made more than one Horcrux?! The soul division bit didn't matter much to him, but if he can't use the killing curse, he'll need to brush up on his other Dark Magic skills.

"Oh, but we'd be _ever_ so fortunate if it did happen that way after all. As magic is closely linked with the soul, you are essentially sacrificing half your magic each time you cast the spell. Marring the soul is such a horrible process it's likely you wouldn't even be able to feel your missing magic! And if Voldemort _did_ have seven Horcruxes, he'd have roughly...let's see… one-point-five percent of his original magical ability!" He stifled a mad giggle as Quirinus' turban moaned in horror. The other teachers looked confused, but a gesture from Dumbledore told them he was having a blast messing with a Dark Lord possessing a teacher. That _particular_ gesture was not in the orientation handbook given to Quirrell.

"I suppose one percent could still be a bit threatening. I remember a young lad, such great potential he had; one percent of my own awesome and mighty power but still able to dazzle me with the way he used it, that Tom Riddle." He faked a sad gaze while the turban writhed in fear/anger. At least it looked that way. "Such a shame he died so young, a male prostitute in Knockturn Alley..." He almost choked this time as the turban growled.

Snape, sensing an opportunity to save face in front of his 'master' and put down an enemy at the same time, spoke up. "Headmaster, I think you are mistaking your students."

A twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore turned to Snape. "Oh? Perhaps I am, you'll have to refresh my memory. One too many powerful, long-forgotten magic _seared_ into my memory makes such things difficult."

Snape stifled a snort. "Yes Headmaster, you are thinking of McNair. He was caught in his academy days trying to 'earn a few extra galleons and getting screwed while doing it' in his seventh year. Quite the scandal in my House. Most of the male Death Eaters were outed as homosexuals. I remember once, walking into the common room one night where they all had posters up of 'the hottest males in Hogwarts' and I had told you that Tom Riddle was at the top of their rankings, as homosexuality was still heavily frowned upon at the time."

Dumbledore pretended to cough to hide his guffaws as the turban stilled, then slumped down. It then gave a shudder as if it was thinking the following: 'So... _that's_ why they were so eager to please me?!'

By now, all the teachers had figured out what was going on. Some were a little worried, but most of them knew Dumbledore. If he was trolling a Dark Wizard, then he had a plan to deal with him. The newer teachers…well all they did was follow the old guard.

Now, we _could_ continue on with what the other characters were doing, but the side stuff alone would make yet another whole series that maybe even longer than the series it is based on. Or a rather long Broadway musical. Anyways, let us press on to the primary matters of the…well, _main characters_.

It was a few weeks later from the talk at the Slytherin table that Harry had a rather strange thought. 'It's been two months now, and I haven't heard anyone so much as mention my scar for a while now...it feels nice.' It felt much more like home did, where he was just a typical boy. In a typical wizarding home with a typical wizarding family. A place where his every action wasn't put on a pedestal. The magical lessons, on the other hand, were finally beginning to take off. Now that they had covered the basics, they were ready to move on. And Harry was beyond excited to finally get his feet wet into the good stuff.

Twas a lovely, chilly Halloween morning when all the students awoke to the smell of bacon. Oh, and other various pumpkin-based products, but it was mostly the bacon. _And_! On top of the bacon, Professor Flitwick announced he was going to make all the muggle-born students' dreams come true by teaching them to levitate objects! Indeed, the age of Jedi vs. Sith was about to begin anew in Hogwarts.

It was a few dozen eager faces that sat before the Professor, who had seen this in every single one of his classes since 1977. He began the course by pairing up the students. Harry's partner was Draco, who proceeded to quietly thank him profusely for saving him from Polina. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Hermione being paired with Terry Boot. It was a trying time for both of them: For Terry, it was that Hermione was a girl and thus had cooties. For Hermione, it was that Terry was a bloody useless git who couldn't find his fucking arse with a map and a guide. Hermione sometimes read books that she shouldn't. It didn't help that though she was liked by many a student for her lectures, she seemed to be a rather shy girl so most people left her alone. Harry was the exception, because they are besties. Polina and Draco were there too.

Professor Flitwick tapped his wand to get the attention of the class. "Today we'll be levitating a feather! You've all had enough time here to learn wand movement is _key_! Each spell above a certain skill level requires it, you see. Remember, for Wingardium Leviosa, swish and flick! Enunciation is just as important, if mispronounced you are as likely as to rocket it up through the ceiling as you are to do nothing at all!"

Harry and Draco found an easy time of it, as they've already had a bit of practice at home. Polina killed it as usual. Terry Boot, he saw, had a harder time of it. Mostly because while Hermione was trying to help him, he was ignoring her because she was a girl, and this was getting Hermione increasingly annoyed with him. Eventually, it got out of hand. Terry was trying so hard to do the opposite of what she was saying, he was whipping his arms around like a windmill and saying sounds that only sounded like what he was supposed to say, see?

"Zingvardgium Cheviosalsa!" What does that even mean?

"Merlin's saggy scrotum, Terry! Wingardium Leviosa! Levio-sah!" Hermione lost it. The Professor looked as if he wanted to interfere, but another first year caught his feather on fire, and he was busy helping to put it out.

Terry, having enough of this bossy know-it-all, called her bluff. She clearly had no idea what she was saying. "Oh yeah?! Why don't you do it then!" Satisfied she would back down, he turned to his feather and-

"Wingardium **_FUCKING_** Leviosa!" In a rather impressive display of magic, every feather in a ten-mile radius shot into the sky. Including those which had been attached to birds. Incidentally, this also caused the fire the Professor was sorting out to just sort of...taper off.

Flitwick turned to her and coughed. "Yes, well...five points to Hermione for adequately completing the spell, and five points _from_ Hermione for language...and five points to Hermione for an impressive feat of magic.

After class, Terry tried to get some of the boys on his side. Unsuccessfully. Hermione was just too much fun to be mean to, and her Great Hall lectures are responsible for bringing up the grades of some of the students by an entire letter. Nevertheless, though, Hermione had heard every ill word towards her, and still angry, stormed off. She looked vaguely like a volcano; very red and _very_ ready to explode.

She didn't come to the next class and even skipped lunch. Harry, Draco, and Polina overheard Parvati Patil telling Lavender Brown that she thought she heard Hermione crying in the girls' bathroom. When she tried to investigate, she was bared by some of the house elves because Hermione was making a fantastic mess. Polina nudged Draco, so Draco nudged Harry, who smacked both of them and stalked off towards the girls' bathroom. Polina looked particularly smug about the whole situation.

With Harry gone, Draco sat down and talked to Crabbe and Goyle with Polina. Well, _he_ was talking to them. Polina was busy chatting about girl talk with some other Slytherin girls. And since Draco wasn't particularly fond of that subject, he put his full focus on the other two while uttering a simple response or a nod for when Polina addressed him.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle could have been brothers all things considered. But the two were vastly different in every other aspect: Crabbe was shorter and more of a brute, while Goyle was taller and more people friendly…at least in appearance. Those who knew them also seemed to consider the two nothing more than a pair of dull-witted, talentless, thugs loyal to whoever seemed the most powerful and popular of the House. But that was also not entirely true. Draco and the boys had stuck together mostly because their pure-blood families knew each other, but they were a decent duo when all things were considered; more like minions for the Malfoy boy, but dependable in a pinch.

Crabbe was good for getting other students off Draco's back since he was built like a stocky football player and intimidating as heck to boot. Plus, he excelled at any sort of physical labors. Which was great for Draco since he didn't like to do anything physical anyways. Goyle on the other hand…Oh, Gregory Goyle was quite the surprising one. Many considered Crabbe to be the smarter and more talented between the two, but it turned out that Goyle was quite the inquisitive and studious boy behind the curtain of pure-blood lineage and all the nasty attitude that came with it. As well as the veil of idiocy he wore so Crabbe wouldn't feel bad about his friend being smarter than him. Recently, in a class Draco had with the two boys, it had been Goyle who spearheaded the topic of a midterm book report and cranked out fifteen pages all on his own!

And it was also he who taught Draco his newfound hobby: people watching. 'People watching' was a particularly exciting hobby he and some other students had begun taking on, as Hogwarts itself was a _volume_ of knowledge both in the literal term _and_ in terms of the people who occupy it. If one were to sit and focus their entire being on examining every person and magical/non-magical object, one would be given tremendous insight and thought processes they never would think before.

So now, every day in the Great Hall since the first day at Hogwarts and the ritual of the Sorting Hat, Draco would eat and casually look around at everyone and what they were up to. Some days they were boring, other times he saw a few unique goings-on at a few of the tables…especially with the staff. And today, he decided to start with that. There was the usual murmuring of whatever the staff was usually talking about with a few obviously pretending to listen while doing other things. In fact, Professor Statera was one of those individuals. Oh, the blond was nodding his head and answering here and there, but his gaze kept glancing to the doors leading out of the hall. Almost as if waiting for something to happen.

That's about when the doors burst open, and Professor Quirrell came running into the hall screaming. " **TROOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLL**! _IN THE DUNGEONS_! …Thought you ought to know." And fell over in a pile of limbs. His limbs, there wasn't a random pile of body parts just laying around.

And then the screaming began. There were pleas of mercy to a deity, mocking of that deity as impotent, and general all-around unpleasantness. Professor Dumbledore quickly assessed the situation in a matter of seconds, sighed, and raised his wand. With a loud bang of a canon, complete with a bright flashing from the end of his wand, the hall quieted.

"For _Merlin's_ sake students, it's just a **troll**. We, as your _Professors_ , can easily take care of this. It isn't even that dangerous, just extremely _hardy_. I'm sure some _particularly_ clever first years could even knock it out. And we, your **_Professors_** , are so overqualified to take it out that any one of us could do it in their sleep." As one, all the students turned to stare at the fainted Professor Quirrell. "That daft _moron_ is an exception. Everyone knows the DADA position is cursed, so the only people who apply are the bottom of the barrel or have _no_ care of their own life being affected by the supposed **curse**. Now, if everyone will **calmly** proceed to your common rooms, we can get this taken care of. And don't worry, a few loud noises will scare it off if you find it. So, the upper years will escort the younger years... And _while_ we are on the subject, 3rd years and up, why the _devil_ did you scream when you've taken Care of Magical Creatures? You should have faced off against things far _worse_ than a troll of all things during the class." He paused to give another very long **sigh**. "Off with you all, I tire of this. I'm going to introduce that troll to a world of pain."

With a somewhat sheepish shuffle, all the students ducked out of the Great Hall.

Draco and Polina were walking off to their common room when Polina grabbed Draco, and thus his attention. "Waitaminute. Harry and Hermione. They don't know..."

The boy was horrified. "They missed the _pudding_!"

Polina, unamused, smacked him. "No, ya wonderful dunderhead. The troll."

"Oh...right...To the girls' bathroom?"

Polina nodded and dragged him off without another word.

"I can walk you know." Draco grumbled.

"You've lost that privilege."

They had made a few random turns when they heard muffled cursing. Polina, still dragging Draco, hid behind a tapestry (if anyone is interested, the tapestry is of a person sneaking past a tapestry with an obviously hiding person behind a tapestry of a person finding a person behind a tapestry of a particularly handsome tortoise). Draco struggled a little in the girl's grasp so he could lean around their hiding place and saw none other than Professor Snape. He passed them swiftly and turned a corner. Confident the danger had passed, they followed Professor Snape to the corridor and then turned around into a new hallway.

Draco suddenly stopped and grabbed Polina. "Do you smell that?"

Polina smacked him _againwith_ a scowl on her face. "That is dis- _GUST_ -ing Draco! Have some decorum when a lady is present! Oh-Oh god it smells like the consequences of Taco Bell!"

Luckily for Draco, who was about to be berated some more, they heard more footsteps. This time of what sounded like Hagrid. Draco, happy for a scapegoat, pointed confidently at him…only to whimper as he saw it was _not_ in fact Hagrid, while Polina dragged a terrified Draco into the shadows.

It was a troll. About four feet taller than Hagrid, its skin looked as if it rolled around in wet cement. Small head on an enormous body, short legs, and arms for days. It was dragging around what seemed to be a freshly plucked tree.

The hideous creature stepped in a puddle of water that was leaking out of a door. Looking down, it prodded the puddle a few times with its foot. Smacking its lips a few times, it then stumbled into the room.

Draco looked at Polina. "My dad taught me the locking charm, we could lock it in there and go get a teacher."

Polina was about to answer in the positive when a high-pitched scream echoed through the corridor, and a shout of, "Fucking _Potter_ _luck_!" following soon after.

They turned towards each other, nodded resolutely, then shouted a battle cry of "This is a stupid idea!" at the same time before charging inside.

Bursting into the girls' bathroom, they saw Hermione running to a book bag while Harry was lobbing debris at the monster. Polina and Draco drew their wands and started hurling as many jinxes and hexes as they knew. Which, admittedly, were few.

Still, it did the trick as it distracted the troll from clobbering Harry.

Hermione was still fumbling with the book bag when Harry did something stupid in his blind rage. He grabbed a pipe. "I am going to bring my righteous wrath upon your head! It will be fucking _Biblical_!" With a running leap and another war-cry of "Upsy-Daisy!", Harry felt himself be propelled further in the air than he thought was possible, all the way to the troll's head. Of course, he only recognized this subconsciously, as his conscious mind was focused entirely on one thing. Bam Bam.

Landing feet first on the shoulders of the troll, Harry swung low with all his might. With a mighty _conk_ , he struck again and again. On the fifth hit, the troll had had enough and shook Harry off and onto the floor.

It was this moment that Hermione freed her and Harry's wands from the bag. As she turned around, she saw the troll raising his club for a hit on the still dazed Harry. Fear was replaced by adrenaline and an all-consuming **rage** as a need to destroy her enemies pumped through her veins as she yelled out the first spell that came to mind. " _Wingardium Leviosa_!"

The club slipped from the troll's hand in the nick of time, as he swung down an empty fist and then proceeded to stare at it dumbly. The club rose into the air until it hit the ceiling. Not quite knowing what to do, she ended the spell. The club fell down and over, as its heavier side hit the troll right on the noggin. The troll hiccupped and fell over backward with a thud.

Hermione dropped her wand and ran over to help Harry up. Draco looked at Polina, who smirked at the two of them as Hermione had started patting Harry down. "Are you alright (Yes Hermione), did you bump your head (a little), how many fingers am I holding up (none), what's the capital of Nebraska (the letter N)" and on and on it went until Hermione was satisfied.

Until she slapped Harry upside the head. "Harry Potter, why on earth did you decide that jumping on a _troll_ was the smart thing to do!?"

Harry, sensing pain that would be inflicted upon his person if he didn't answer this correctly said the first thing that popped into his head. "I was only distracting it until you got our wands and we could all cast a tripping hex at its feet and run away?"

"That! ...That...that was a pretty good idea..."

Polina slid to the side from where she and Draco were standing a few seconds later. And before Draco could ask why, he got hit with the door when it slammed open and Professor McGonagall burst in heroically. Headmaster Dumbledore sighed as he soon followed, picked Draco up, and walked towards the Professor. "It's a **troll** Minerva...a _troll_. Stop with the dramatics _please_..."

McGonagall cleared her throat and brought her body down to a 'pest control' stance just as Professors Snape, Statera, and Quirrell walked in. Professor Quirrell looked at the knocked-out troll, whimpered, and sat down clutching his heart. Professor Snape smacked him on the head. "It's knocked out you f-...you dunderhead," he said as he spotted the four children.

Dumbledore smacked his hand on his face and spoke in a muffled, "Why the **devil** are four of you, two of you _males_ , here in the girls' bathroom and not in your _dorms_...? It better be a good answer; I am not getting _sued_... **again**... ** _this year_**."

Seeing Professor Statera eye her with a rather stern and curious gaze, Polina spoke up before Hermione could. "Hermione was being bullied by Terry in Charms class today, so when Harry saw she wasn't at the feast he went looking for her to, I assume, cheer her up. When Draco and I heard about the troll, we realized Harry and Hermione didn't know and thus couldn't avoid it, so we went looking for them. Draco and I saw the troll and were about to go get a teacher when the troll went into the bathroom that Harry and Hermione were in, so we went in after them. Couldn't let our friends face a troll by themselves, could we?"

Professor Statera closed his eyes and sighed, nodding. "Alright, we can't fault you for that. But I'm talking five points off you and Draco for neither of you thinking to let _one_ go in to provide backup and the _other_ to go get one of us. Bravery and loyalty are all well and good, but none of you can feasibly take on, let alone so much as scare off a troll yet, so I will not award points on account that one mistake and someone might have died. Now...how did you manage to knock it out?"

This time Hermione spoke. "Harry jumped on its neck, seeing as it's twelve feet tall I don't quite know how, and started hitting it on the head with a pipe. We would have used our wands to cast tripping hexes at it until we could run away, but we both left our wands in my book bag... Harry's wand was in my bag because he didn't have anywhere else to put it while he was helping me clean up the ink I spilled when I was angry."

"I was overcome with righteous wrath, that's why I jumped on its neck…I don't know how I did it either." Harry chipped in.

Draco decided now was the time to admit something. "Polina and I threw everything we had at the troll to distract it until... Well we, or at least I, didn't have a plan beyond 'don't let it hit us and keep throwing spells and junk at it' to be honest."

Harry continued. "I fell off the troll, and that's about when Hermione got the wands and used hers to levitate its club out of its hand and over its head. When it reached its highest point, she let it go, and the heavy side hit the troll's head. That's what knocked it out, Professor.

Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Yes, gravity _would_ do in a troll...Alright, as Professor Statera said, no points will be awarded. But seeing as you _did_ manage to not die in a horrific accident, no more points will be deducted further from you. Off you trot, we need to clean this up."

They all ran out of the bathroom as fast as they could, afraid the Professors might change their minds. When the group finally calmed down, and Hermione decided to go back to the Ravenclaw room, she gave Draco a firm handshake, Polina received a hearty hug, and Harry received a slug to the arm _and_ an even _greater_ hug.

As she ran off, the duo of Draco and Polina decided then and there that Hermione was to be their friend as well. Draco and Hermione may have had their…differences, but now they knew that they had one special thing in common. Not wanting to die. It's incredible how the defeat of a common enemy brings people closer together.

Harry was still on the floor moaning in pain as a Hermione Hug yet again seemed to splinter his ribs. His friendship with the girl would eventually kill him, this he knew.

* * *

[A/N]: Thank you, Kate for telling me about the issue with the chapter, I wouldn't have noticed otherwise.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry Potter and First the Rejection of Canon:

Chapter Eleven:

The Sports Did Good

November. It was the best of times; it was the worst of times. On the one hand, you got to cuddle up together with your significant other to stave off the chill. On the other, for those both too young and those who didn't _have_ a significant other…it was just so damn _cold_. Snow layered upon the mountains, and the lake reminded some of the weapons that the suits of armor carried; it could look beautiful in the right circumstances but was deadly to touch.

On the third mutant hand, it was Quidditch season! It would certainly explain why Hagrid was outside every morning defrosting the brooms. At least he was all bundled up in his big overcoat, gloves, and oddly furry boots. Draco was often seen whining that he should have been Seeker for Slytherin. Failing that, he then complained that Harry should have been. To which Harry would arch an eyebrow and flatly state something like how the only way he'd ever willingly go flying about at speeds exceeding walking was if a dragon was chasing him.

As the three Slytherin's were helping themselves to a delicious meal, Polina decided to alleviate Draco's worries. "Really Draco, calm down. Slytherin is at the top once again this year, Ravenclaw is at a draw with Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor is _last_. Even if Slytherin loses the House Cup this year, we have solid _proof_ that we've done our best. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff are tied so because of their tremendous work ethic, and Gryffindor…well, bless their hearts, but all the mischief they get up to does not do well for the new point system."

Draco looked abashed. "Well…that is true, but this is _Quidditch_ ," he said as if it explained everything. And from that point of view, it did, as quite a few other students nodded to his perfectly sound reasoning.

Polina thought about it, and then grudgingly agreed. That was technically a true statement. Plus, **sports**.

Harry, on the other hand, was glad he had Hermione. All this obsession with the whole 'feet leaving solid earth' thing was something he couldn't understand, and he was delighted _someone_ shared his viewpoint. And Hermione was equally delighted to have Harry as a friend, especially since they made excellent study-buddies; she was strong in theoretical with a weakness practical, while Harry was the opposite.

They also spent a great deal of time looking through _Quidditch_ _Through the Ages_ , as it turned out to be a very complex sport. It had over 700 ways of committing fouls. It boggled Harry's mind, as that would mean if referees spent half that much time learning actual spells, they'd be legendary dualists to have memorized 350 different spells. And Quidditch players should have also been up there, maybe only at 200 apiece, yeah, but that's still a rather large number.

It was a rare snowy day that Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Polina found themselves outside. Rare days such as today warrants snowball fights. Harry teamed up with Polina, while Hermione was with Draco. Neither of the latter two was particularly enthused about this, them being only cordial to each other at best. At first. It turns out that Harry and Polina were slightly competitive, and if they were to survive then they needed to become fast friends. Harry and Polina won. No one was keeping score, but Draco and Hermione had surrendered after fifteen minutes, and they both shared similarities to snowmen. After that, Hermione showed off her proficiency with fire spells with a blue flame inside a glass bottle. Harry and Polina stood facing each other discussing lobbing techniques, while Draco and Hermione shared a look of pain and cold. The fire was helping, but only just.

It was Hermione that noticed Snape limping away, muttering angrily.

Hermione turned to Draco and asked, "Why is the potions professor limping like that? He's a professor, shouldn't he know some spell or something to help?"

Draco shrugged. "It could be any number of things, maybe a potions mishap that needs medical supplies he doesn't keep in the classroom?"

Polina looked at him aghast, "Draco! Hermione! Have you no imagination?! He was _clearly_ battling Dark Mages to keep us all safe!"

Harry turned towards the group with a frown. "You don't think Mr. Cuddles and him got into a fight?"

Polina, not having thought of that, frowned as well. "It's possible…though I hope not. He is a good boy."

Three sets of heads nodded, and one sighed.

Draco looked thoughtful, "If he did…why did he need to get past a Cerberus?"

Hermione looked at him, eyebrow raised. "Headmaster Dumbledore very obviously is guarding something valuable, with a Cerberus at the head. It's only prudent he'd have the rest of the professors contribute to the security of the treasure. Someone wants the treasure, so all the professors are chipping in."

Harry turned a thoughtful eye toward her. "Unless one of the professors wants the treasure. It might not be Snape; he's a decent sort if a tad strict, but…well on the list of people you suspect to steal a valuable treasure, he's on that list."

"Boys, boys, boys," Polina shook her head. "There's an easy solution to this. Take a list of all Hogwarts professors and eliminate all who are least likely to do so."

"Quirrell's out then," Draco said confidently. "No one that jumpy is stealing anything from anybody." 

All the students nodded.

Later that night, Harry laid awake thinking. Of all the Hogwarts professors, Quirrell was the _least_ likely to be able to do so but…well his aunt and uncle were lawyers, and his cousin was training for auror this year. No one would even suspect Quirrell. So that put it smack dab _on_ the list. And Snape, while unlikely, was also on that list, mostly because of his dark history and general vibe. Binns was a ghost, and thus out. McGonagall was out because he's too terrified of the possibility of an Evil McGonagall. Flitwick was also off his list because the man is a dueling champion and wouldn't leave Mr. Cuddles alive. Professor Zaine…hm, there _was_ something off about him, but if he wanted to steal The ThingTM, then he would've grabbed it at the bank. _Unless_ he only did it to throw off suspicion? With the end goal of overthrowing Dumbledore as Headmaster of a school! Wait…wait hold on. Harry himself can barely handle four other children, why would anyone want to take over a whole _school_ of children? _So_ , he's off the list. There were undoubtedly other professors, but he hasn't met them yet, so on his list…only two. Snape and Quirrell are his top suspects.

And maybe Zaine.

* * *

The next morning was much like the previous: cold and horrendously bright. The only difference was that this morning was the morning of the first Quidditch match of the season.

"You comin' to the game Harry?" Draco asked with a mouth full of muffin. Which _particular_ flavor it was, Harry could only guess.

Up at Teachers Table, Zaine was having a fit of disturbing laughter at the sight of a young, innocent and _naïve_ boy who was about to be beset by Powers Beyond His Ken.

"Sure," Harry replied. "I may not like it much, but you guys do, and I like you guys so…why not?" Under his breath, he muttered, "Wouldn't go if I could, but there's nothing else to _do_ today."

The group of friends made their way to the stands, making decent time. Everyone managed a decent seat at about ten-thirty. Harry managed a spot next to Hermione while Draco tried to get away from Polina. He failed.

About half an hour later, Madam Hooch entered the field along with the other Quidditch players. They all gathered around her, and after a few words that Harry couldn't hear the players mounted the brooms. At her sharp whistle, fourteen players and one referee flew into the air, ready for what could be an exciting time. As dictated by the announcer, Lee Jordan. "And Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor snags the Quaffle right out of the start! Good looking _and_ a fantastic chaser-"

"Mr. Jordan!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out. She looked quite stern indeed.

"Sorry Professor, it won't happen again," Lee tried to act contrite. "Angelina Johnson makes a neat pass to last years' Chaser reserve Alicia Spinnet who passes it right back to Angelina and – Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint intercepts! It looks like he's going for the goal now and – Gryffindor Keeper Oliver Wood intercepts nicely done mate! He passes it off to Gryff Keeper Katie Bell who makes her way around Slytherin Captain Flint and – oof! Hit in the back of the head by a Bludger, Slytherin Chaser Adrian Pucey picks up the Quaffle and makes his way towards the goal – and there's the second Bludger taking him out hit by Gryffindor Beaters Fred slash George Weasley! Angelina Johnson takes up the Quaffle again, racing towards the goal! Nice dodge there, Angelina! She throws it for the opening goal of the game – Slytherin Keeper Bletchly moves for the interception – he overshot it, and Gryffindor makes the first goal!"

Harry and Hermione politely clapped, while Draco had to be consoled by Polina. Draco's reaction was more prevalent in the Slytherin House, while Harry and Hermione's reaction was not repeated at all, as it was overshadowed as all the Gryffindors exploded in cheer. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, curiously enough, were all doing classwork. Figures, the most hardworking and studious houses were doing _actual_ work on their day off.

"Oy," Harry whispered to Hermione. "How long d'you think we'll be here?"

The bushy haired girl leaned over and whispered back, "Dunno. I've read that these matches go on for a while; it depends on how fast either seeker catches the snitch."

Lee Jordan began announcing again, "Slytherin Chaser Pucey has the Quaffle, nice dodge on those bludgers, an…interesting outmaneuvering of the Gryffindor Weasleys and Chaser Bell – hold on, was that the Snitch?"

The crowd seemed to wait on bated breath.

"Gryffindor Seeker Sally Birchgrove seems to have sighted it too, and there goes Slytherin Seeker Terrance Higgs rushing after her, neck and neck! Sally's just a bit ahead though; she might just – oh! Foul! Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint blocks Seeker Sally Birchgrove!"

Harry sighed. "You'd think that with 700 ways to foul in this game, there'd be at least a list of penalties half as long."

The announcer blared to life. "Right, with that blatant and horrendous foul -"

"Lee Jordan…" Professor McGonagall growled.

"Sorry Professor. At that disgusting bit of cheating-"

"I gave you that position, and I can take it away!"

Lee Jordan's voice came across as a bit more nervous. "Ahem, right, so penalty goes to Slytherin giving Gryffindor a free throw opportunity. Chaser Spinnet takes the Quaffle, nice ten points for Gryffindor and we continue with Gryffindor still in possession."

Harry was sipping some cocoa when it happened. He saw one of the Bludgers shudder and move erratically. Lee Jordon was still commenting.

"Slytherin takes the Quaffle, Flint snakes past Spinnet…past Bell and – ooh! Right in the face with a Bludger! Ah, but that isn't stopping him any, Slytherin scores. Whoopty doo."

The Slytherins cheered loudly, but Harry's eyes were still on the oddly behaving bludger. He had a moment when he wondered if someone cast an enlargement spell on it when he realized.

IT WAS COMING RIGHT AT HIM.

Harry pushed Hermione out of the way and booked it to the Quidditch pitch, right on time. It impacted the bench, and the hard-enchanted leather easily broke the wood bleachers. His hopes that it would stop there went unheeded, as it picked itself right back up and chased _him._

Draco was suitably horrified, and Polina looked nervous. Hermione again resembled a volcano. "We have to do something!" She hissed at her other two friends.

Polina chewed her nail idly. "I get what you mean; it takes some powerful magic to enchant a Bludger, more powerful still to control it like that."

Draco, still horrified, tossed in his opinion. "It has to be a Professor or an upper year…"

Suddenly, Dumbledore stood up, wand in hand. "Keep running, Harry! I won't be responsible for another lawsuit and _so help me Merlin_ whoever is hexing that Bludger better hope I don't **catch them!** " And began casting various protective spells around the students, as well as he could.

Hermione gasped, "Waitaminute, you need a near constant casting to be able to control the exact movements of something programmed to move about randomly!"

"Well, yeah," Polina agreed. "But what can we do?"

"Distract them!" Hemione replied.

"Uh, how?" Poor, simple Draco.

" _Fire._ " That was the only word Hermione said before she took off towards the Professor-Only Area with Polina trailing after her.

"D'you know whose out for Harry?" Polina said as they neared the destination.

"No, I do not," Hermione said, passion burning in her eyes. "But there is a simple solution."

Polina was almost afraid to ask. Almost. "Oh?"

Hermione took out her wand, a gleam in her eye and a waver in her icy calm voice. "If you don't know _who_ to burn…" The tip of her wand lit with a bright blue flame. "Burn them _all_."

After a few seconds, all the Professors started jumping around simultaneously.

Polina was not well and truly frightened of Hermione.

The Bludger had stopped attacking Harry, and he stopped running. He was already halfway across the pitch when the thing stopped though, and the field itself was covered in holes. Idly, he noticed Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole flying at him. Lucian looked him over and said, "Alright there, Potter?"

Harry, exhausted, could do nothing but nod.

Peregrine smirked, "Good on you though, making sure the other students were out of the way. _And_ for being the center of attention so Flint can score us an even 50 points. Now get off the field before Madam Hooch gives Gryffindor a free throw for a student on the pitch."

Harry gave them a thumbs up before they flew off, then began sneaking his way back to the stands. All eyes were on him though, so it was entirely pointless. Madam Hooch decided not to make trouble for Harry in his house but still docked twenty points from Slytherin all the same.

Dumbledore walked up to him though for a quick word. "Excellent work Mr. Potter, take fifteen points for saving the school a lawsuit-er I mean saving your fellow students from danger." He coughed, then cast a quick Diagnostic Charm. "Ah, good, perfectly unharmed save some muscle damage from overtaxing them." He nodded to himself and stroked his beard. "Some rest ought to do you some good."

"I'm fine, sir." He huffed, trying to dissuade him from separating him from his friends, no matter how much sense it made to do so. "Just uh…just give me a moment to catch my breath."

The Headmaster waved him off. "Nonsense, Mr. Potter, we haven't caught the scoundrel who hexed the Bludger, so you would be putting yourself _and_ those around you at risk."

Harry could not argue with that logic.

"Of course," Dumbledore's eyes briefly twinkled, "I insist on taking some friends with you and having a nice cup of tea to settle your nerves. I believe Hagrid would be willing?"

"Isn't that a bit far, sir?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore grunted affirmatively, eyes no longer twinkling. "That is _entirely_ the point, Mr. Potter. Whoever did this _will_ be found, but until then I need your help to keep the other students unharmed."

Harry nodded and walked off to tell his friends the general plan.

Dumbledore, unbeknownst to Harry but knownst to us started muttering under his breath, "Damn schoolboard will be breathing down my neck as it is, I swear what I planned for the damn troll would be _pleasant_ compared to what I'm going to do to Squirrelly Quirrell. He can't be too damn scared; he did this in full view of _me_ , so why the devil hasn't he entered my Maze of Doom yet?" He set himself to work repairing the field. "Boy should count himself _lucky_ I have my hands tied by the school board, can't just damn fire him for being possessed by bloody Riddle or whatever his made-up name was." He sighed and went back to the stands. "Instead I have to keep this _bloody_ _ **fool**_ onboard because he was 'highly recommended' by the board. Hope the curse takes hold soon and he offs himself. Endangering _my_ students in **_my_** school, I ought to give him a thrashing but 'oh you can't punish a teacher for suspicion of being possessed by the Dark Lord 'I Am Loved Old Mr. Ort,' because 'we'll be fined' yeah, I bloody _know_ I can't Sprout but what am I supposed to do, sit back and _wait_ until the idiot kills himself?" He sighs. "At least he's so damn incompetent that he hasn't killed anyone _else_ yet."

Far above, the Gryffindor Seeker Sally Birchgrove caught the Snitch ending the game 170 – 60.

* * *

"It was for _sure_ one of the teachers." Draco began explaining once he was sure all were safe from rogue Bludgers inside Hagrid's Hut.

"Well," Harry began. "My list is down to Snape and…someone else."

"Hogwash!" Hagrid harrumphed. "The perfessers are 'ere ta _teach_ ya youngins. Not harm ya."

"I don't know…" Hermione said. "The Bludger stopped attacking Harry when the Professors were distracted. And we _did_ see Professor Snape limping down the courtyard. We suspect he's after whatever the Cerberus is guarding. Or someone else is, but Professor Snape is the main suspect." Head nods abound.

Hagrid hiccuped. "Hermione, Harry h'allayas… Ya don't mean _Fluffy_?"

Polina raised an eyebrow. "Fluffy? Is that his name? We call him Mr. Cuddles."

"Well, look," Hagrid started. "It ain't nuthin to be worried over, ya hear? Whatevers happenin' is fer the other Professors to worry abou', and whatever Fluffy is guardin is between Dumbledore and his 'ole friend Nicolas Flamel!"

"Oh?" said Harry as he sipped on his tea. "The treasure is related to someone named Nicolas Flamel then?"

Hagrid froze. "I shouldn'ta said tha'."

Polina sighed and shook her head. "No Hagrid. No, you shouldn't have. We are now going to exhaust every resource our not-so-inconsiderable eleven-year-old minds can muster."

Draco nodded demurely. "Treasure is treasure after all. I don't even care what it is, I'm a growing boy and need to adventure."

All the children nodded, all for different reasons. Draco and Harry saw the opportunity for both adventure _and_ treasure. They were going to take it.

Hermione and Polina needed to come along and make sure they didn't get themselves killed.

Hagrid appeared to have swallowed an entire lemon tree.

* * *

[A/N]: Thank you Monster, we appreciate the feedback, look forward to even more insanity later on! Seriously, we've planned on doing eight full-length novels, with plenty of humor and then some rather jarringly serious moments even my editor didn't see coming.

Poll: Book 2/3 combined, yes or no? A lot of our best work is planned for books 4-8, but I've felt the pacing is a little slow right now, we are going to finish up book one as we've planned, 18 chapters, but what are your thoughts about speeding through a couple years?

Or, you can ask questions about why things are happening the way they are, I've enjoyed a lot of the research and planning done for this project and want to share a bit of that.


	12. Chapter 12

Harry Potter and First the Rejection of Canon

Chapter Twelve

A Black Christmas

Winter had arrived. In the middle of December, the entirety of Hogwarts was covered in several inches of snow, no longer mere frost and a brisk wind. The Twin Terrors lost five points apiece for enchanting snowballs to belt Professor Quirrell from behind. And the post owls lived up to the reputation of their non-magical counterparts; neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom. Indeed, a few of the owls even needed nursing back to health because their dedication to delivering mail was extraordinary.

Of course, not all were happy. Hogwarts, though it was a _magical_ castle, lacked a heating system outside of the Common Rooms. The hallways were freezing, and the windows were frosted. More than a few students were rapidly introduced to various heating charms, and Harry followed their example. Although some students were a bit more methodical than that and wore more clothing along with using heating charms.

Then there were those like Hermione, who made a decent side business selling the Flame Jam Jars after getting more practice with her fire spells. Her business was becoming rather successful, and Harry couldn't help but question how she had created Flame Jam Jars so proficiently. Modest as usual, she had replied that it was only a matter of time before _someone_ in the school made a fortune off these things, so she took her apparent love of fire to a more profitable stance. And business was booming; one winter alone was going to fill her pockets with enough wizarding money to buy her family and her new friends a gift or two.

Down in the dungeons though was the coldest, the student's breath becoming mist even as they all huddled around the cauldron for warmth. Harry was currently hunched over a cauldron measuring out the spine of a lionfish, which Polina had already powdered.

"Any plans for the holidays?" She said to him.

"Oh, same as most people I suppose." Harry shrugged. "Going home to the family for Christmas and then back for the rest of the school year."

"That's nice. Any special gifts you planning? Or special people to give gifts to?" Polina asked, adjusting the flames.

"Well, you guys for one. Oh, Neville too... And Hermione. Nothing crazy though, just nice gifts." Harry said as he stirred.

"Oh, thank Merlin. I thought you'd go all out, and I'd be obliged to match." She let out a relieved sigh.

Harry snorted, "We've been friends for 3 months here, and in that time, we've fought a troll, tamed Mr. Cuddles, and I'm _pretty_ sure Hermione set fire to a lot of things. I dunno about you, but I need to calm down from that. Adventuring is nice and all, but it can be _exhausting_."

Polina giggled. "Yeah, I hear ya. Something down to earth would be nice this year, Uncle Professor Zaine and the rest usually go with… _eccentric_."

The response was met with a blink from Harry. "Why do you call him 'Uncle Professor'? Wouldn't it be easier to call him one or the other? Or rather, don't you have to worries about formalities and professionalism?"

She paused. "I...never actually took any of that into account, honestly. And I don't think Uncle does either. He still says things like 'Dear niece!' or whatever. Even Dumbledore and the other professors don't question it. So...I guess nobody cares? Maybe?"

After Potions class, the trio of Slytherins started walking down the hall, when they encountered a wild fir tree. They all had no idea how it got there, and Draco was the most confused.

Ron Weasley, ever the Gryffindor, immediately stuck his head into it to see what the deal was. "Oh, Hey Hagrid, need any help?"

Draco snorted, the cold of the castle annoying him to a frightening degree. "I suppose Gamekeeper _would_ suit you, Weasley. Hoping for some extra money for the Burrow then? Or you could always upgrade and take over Hagrid's Hut."

Ron turned an unusual shade of red and leaped at Draco, right as Professor Snape was exiting the classroom.

"Mister Weasley!"

The young Gryffindor let go of the Slytherin almost immediately.

"Hullo there Perfessor!" Hagrid said as he stuck his head through the fir tree. "Now before you get into it and take away points willy-nilly, lemme say that young Draco 'ere started it, insultin Mister Weasley's family."

Professor Snape sighed. "Be that as it may, there is no excuse for roughhousing inside castle grounds. Five points from Ron Weasley for fighting, and five points from Draco for instigating." He turned a cold eye to the boys. "Be lucky it isn't more, the both of you." With his piece said, he twirled and walked away, robe billowing quite brilliantly.

Draco looked mildly abashed, then paled when he heard an "Ahem!" He turned, and Polina looked _very_ mildly annoyed.

"I thought we _talked_ about this Draco." She drawled. "No insulting anyone until they've _proven_ they were worthless. As it is, we are eleven and proven _nothing_. We will _talk_ again later, mark my words. Now say sorry and let's _go_." She sighed and walked away, muttering under her breath, "I had hoped he learned his lesson from the train."

Draco sighed and turned to Ron, his shoulders slumped over. "Apologies, Mr. Weasley, for my rude behavior. Though it is no excuse, it is _bloody cold,_ and I let my temper get away from me. If you'll all excuse me, I must suffer another lecture."

"I HEARD THAT!"

Draco stilled, then gulped. "Of course you did, dear, your hearing is beyond reproach."

"FLATTERY WILL NOT GET YOU OUT OF THIS ONE! WE LOST _POINTS_ TODAY!" Polina yelled again from around a corner.

As Draco closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, Ron clapped his shoulder in a moment of comradery brought about by the universal ickiness of girls. "No worries mate, I let the cold get to me too. We all need an outlet, and some just don't understand the way males' bond with each other. S'why I tried to fight Harry earlier this year, Fred and George told me that's how they made friends with Lee Jordan."

All the males nodded. Hermione, and the few other girls around at this point looking baffled.

Hagrid, still looking like a fir tree with a magnificent beard spoke up. "While tha' _is_ true, it isn't proper Hogwarts student behavior. Off with ya now, you've got class to go to. Don't you worry too much about the points though, it _is_ nearly Christmas, and you've got plen'y to look forward too!" And then he lumbered off. _Puns._

And thus, the friends parted ways: Draco went to follow Polina, resigned to his fate, while Harry had decided to go to the library. He usually met up with Hermione when he had a free hour or two since his friend liked to spend most of her time in the library. Polina had decided the best way to advance their quest for the treasure was to split the party, so she and Draco were the field agents while Harry and Hermione were the research team. When one of them found a lead, they would team up again and chase it relentlessly.

Neither team had made any headway, but they were still optimistic! Polina and Draco had already run around the castle twice and found five secret rooms, and fourteen couples annoyed with the two first years for intruding.

The other team of Harry and Hermione had both more and less success. More, because the Hogwarts library was a wealth of information on just about every topic imaginable, and in their search for Nicolas Flamel they were more advanced than just about every other first year! It still wasn't by much though as a lot of the books they read were for history. However, in learning from these books, it acted as a sort of mental adhesive that stuck to what they already knew and would make future spells easier to digest.

Hermione, being the wonderful student that she was, was most pleased. Harry, still an eleven-year-old boy who craved adventure, was less pleased.

And that was what the two were currently doing: still looking over the books for any mention of Nicolas Flamel. They were cramming as much information as they could handle, as there was only one day left until the Christmas Break after all. To their consternation, there was absolutely nothing to find! Nicolas Flamel wasn't in _any_ books featuring _any_ famous wizard of the 20th century! Either all works about him were in the restricted sections (which if he were, would at least tell the Fantastically Fabulous Fearsome Four that whatever the treasure was, was absolutely _not_ worth whatever seriously Dark Magic they would have to face), or wasn't in the library at all!

And Harry suspected that to be the case. "I'm serious Hermione, if I were tasked with guarding The Thing, I'd want to make sure that even if I put the best protections I could think of around it, I'd go a step further and make sure no one _wants_ to look for it! Right now, all we know is that The Thing is a treasure, and if it's being guarded by a Cerberus then treasure on its own wouldn't be enough for me to _fight_ Mr. Fluffy Cuddles!"

Hermione sighed and said, "And I _agree_ with you, but nothing is perfect. There has to be _something_ in one of these books, all we need to do is find a clue we can chase."

"I…okay fine," Harry slumped over. "I still don't like all this reading though. I've got _five_ books in front of me and not a lot of motivation to read them all."

" _That_ I can understand," Hermione nodded. "I like a book as much as any bibliophile, but a lot of these texts are very dry. Interesting, to be sure, but not very fun to read."

Madam Pince almost fainted from these scandalous words she overheard.

As Harry was reading about Mr. So-And-So who did Things-And-Such, Draco and Polina plopped down at their table.

"Good news friendos!" Polina greeted. "We've found another secret room! There were a _lot_ of torches."

Draco sighed. "Who needs a secret room for something like that though? I mean, unless they are magical torches, what's the point?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes a secret room is just a room you forgot you had."

Polina tilted her head to the side. "Huh…that…makes way too much sense."

Hermione sighed and closed her book. "Nothing in this one either. I think I'm done with extracurricular activities for the day. Are we all going to keep looking for Flamel during the break?"

"Of course," Draco said. "This is _the_ most exciting thing that's happened to me since I outflew the Helicopter."

Polina shook her head. "What am I to do with you Draco…but meh. This doesn't even rate the top twenty for me. It's just a fun project I'm doing with friends."

Harry pat Hermione's shoulder. "I've got family in both worlds, so we can cast a wide net here. I'll send an owl if I find anything."

"Both of my parents are dentists, so I'm not sure they could be any help finding a wizard…but I'll try anyway." Hermione said.

"HARRY!" Was the welcome that greeted the young Potter as he entered the Tonks home!

"How's my favorite cousin been?" Nym ruffled his hair.

"Well, Hogwarts hasn't burned down yet, so I've been kinda bored." Harry grinned at the metamorphmagus.

"Humph!" Ted began. "Back in _my_ day, there was a castle-wide fire every month. Standards sure have dropped."

"Behave!" Andromeda elbowed her husband and went to go hug Harry. "Good to see you again dear, Tipsy has been moping around the house since you've been gone."

"Sooo…" Nym started. "What'cha been up to? Which house did you get in?"

Harry's eyes began to gleam. "Well…I made some new friends, learned some magic, fought a troll, outran a hexed Bludger…and pet a Cerberus." He said. "As for my house, I'm in Slytherin. Not as bad of a House as everyone made it sound. I've made a couple friends there, and we've been having a blast. Of course, I have a friend or two in some other house, but we don't hang out as much as we would like to cause, you know, different houses and all."

"That's nice dear, Slytherin is a good house. More than one Minister of Magic was sorted into Slytherin you know" Andromeda began. "Speaking of: fought any Dark Wizards as well?"

"Pfft!" Nym stuck her tongue out at Harry. "Hufflepuff all the way! We churn out more Aurors and Bounty Hunters than the other houses are comfortable with."

Ted just _had_ to add his thoughts on the matter, "That may be, my dear, but don't forget we Slytherin _lawyers_ set the bounties and the Head of the DMLE are often more often Slytherins than not."

"Hah!" Nym glowed with triumph. "The Head of the DLME was a _Hufflepuff_ in her time!"

"Merlin was a Slytherin…," Harry coughed. This earned him a swat on the shoulder by Nym for taking a side in this debate.

"It isn't Slytherin's fault that ninety-nine point nine percent of Parseltongue users here in Britain ended up bad people," Ted nodded in agreement.

"I stand by what I said," Nym raised her nose up at them aloof. "Face it, you can have all the cunning and ambition you like, but hard work'll win the day!"

"True, but!" Harry raised a finger. "What about a Slytherin with the work ethic of a Hufflepuff, with friends in that House, and a fellow Ravenclaw to help him out?"

As the rest of the Tonks pretended to grow faint, Andromeda gave a nervous chuckle. "My, at this rate all you need is a Gryffindor to complete the entire Hogwarts set."

"Truly, such a person would end up the ruler of all Magical Britain," Ted whispered, horrified.

"Sshh! I'm still working on that part!" Harry was ecstatic. They didn't believe him about the troll or the Cerberus! It had _sounded_ outrageous, but there was no way to tell. When the teachers sent home the reports for the year, they would go absolutely _mental_. He was looking forward to seeing them _actually_ faint.

Harry spent the next week fighting Tipsy to the kitchen, winning some and losing others. Oh, and also spending time with his much-beloved family, that was also important.

"Oi, Nym, what have you been up to since I've been gone studying my life away?" Harry said one morning before the adults got up.

"Ah, ya know," Nym took a sip of her freshly brewed coffee. "Auror training at Auror Academy. You need at least three years of apprenticeship before being accepted. I've been placed under Alastor Moody, best auror they have. He's a right bastard though. 'Constant Vigilance' he says like it's a perfectly healthy lifestyle choice. No one can be paranoid about everything all the time. They'd go bloody mental in an hour."

"For an auror fighting against other people with _magic_ , it's not a bad idea. 'It's not paranoia if they really _are_ out to get you,' and all that."

He learned from his cousin how tough Auror training could be. Many candidates dropped out, not quite used to the rigorous training standards. Others were not used to the current instructor, Alastor Moody. According to Nym, it was down to her and four others. Out of an original thirty.

And on the topic of the Tonks' lives minus Harry, it seemed like Ted and Andy had got some new clients over the year: a few wizards had wanted to sue The Daily Prophet for 'slander against their good name.' Some of them were not good people, but hey. Money is money, and the less money bad people have, the better. Of course, the others _were_ good people, but they charged the same anyway. Good or bad, you don't turn away clients, or alienate one group of people. That's how you lose business.

Harry had, in accordance with tradition, went to bed on Christmas Eve early as to await the one known as 'Santa Claus.' Thus, it was with an intense feeling of joy that he had awoken early. He ran downstairs eagerly anticipating his long-awaited presents. The Christmas tradition at the Tonks household was for Harry to unwrap one gift without them, usually one of the gifts given by the Tonks' extended family.

Choosing a rather nice looking one, Harry unwrapped the gift to find a book on non-threatening magical creatures. A rather lovely start, if he did say so himself.

Nym stumbled down the stairs and spoke to the young lad. "Morn' Harry…"

Harry handed her a present with her name on it. "Morning Nym, Happy Christmas!"

"Yeah yeah yeah, Happy Christ-" She yawned mid-word. "Happy Christmas, small child."

"Tipsy!" Andromeda slunk down the stairs. "Coffee, please!"

"Uhn." Murmured Ted while flopping down the stairs.

Tipsy popped in with two cups of coffee, handed them to the parents, pat Harry and Nym on the head, and popped out. The work of a House Elf is never done, especially on Christmas.

Now that the whole family now in attendance, Harry fell upon the presents like a zombie would do to a plate of brains. He started with a shared gift from the Dursley family. It was a simple present: a few comics he had wanted, those were obviously from Dudley, as well as a rather interesting book on Economics from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. The note attached said that though magic was essential to Harry's life, so was the non-magical world and its goings-on, especially when money was involved. And Harry was around that age where knowing about money would be very important from here on.

Harry made a note for his thank you cards with a little side remark about thanking Uncle Vernon for his wonderful insight before going to another present, one after another. Occasionally he would come across a gift for Nym, Ted, or Andy in the pile of presents and hand it off to them.

Young Harry was pleased to see presents from his friends as well. From Hermione, he got a book on fire spells she had been making notes in. Of this, he was grateful; after seeing how expertly she had created a business with those Flame Jam Jars, he was sold on the idea that no one was as good at fire spells as Hermione. And if she was delving into her secrets with him...oh, the business on both of their ends was sure to bloom indeed.

Next, there was a double present wrapped in very expensive looking ribbon and paper which he found had come from Draco and Polina. When Nym asked who that particular present was from and he told the Tonks it was from a Malfoy, they all shook their heads and assumed he was jesting. But after a bit, they realized he wasn't just airing them on, and the entire Tonks family line _nearly actually_ fainted.

Harry decided to open the gift while they were busy reviving themselves with more coffee. From the Malfoy boy, Harry received a very elaborate wizarding chess set that was apparently one in a few hundred made by a particularly famous artist or something. He set it on autoplay once or twice so he could get a feel for the game. Finding it amusing, Harry placed it aside and unwrapped the one from Polina. Polina's was…interesting, to say the least. It was a simple black book, with apparently nothing in it. Shrugging, he began using it as a notebook of some random ramblings and a few odds and ends. At one point, though, he figured out what it was for. The book wrote back! It wasn't anything particularly intelligent, and the note from Polina said it was used by many people to alleviate boredom. The notebook in question learned how to respond by 'remembering' how the writer replied. At first, it would be random nonsense statements, but as it learned, you could have something resembling a conversation in as little as half a year!

Oddly enough, Harry found that he also received a gift from Professor Zaine. From the Professor, he received a book on dualing. Useful, but it's third-year material at least, and you need a signed permission slip from the parents to even _attend_ a dualing session. However, it seemed Zaine knew this too, as in the book was a note written in ocean blue ink that Harry probably wouldn't need this one yet, but it doesn't hurt to practice. In a safe environment. With a chaperone.

Figuring he was done, Harry was about to take his load into his room when Ted stubbed his toe on a rather large stack of presents none of them recognized as being there before. The packages had no name as to who they were from, but they were all addressed to Harry with different penmanship in different colored ink on each one.

One of the mystery presents was a book of relationship advice from someone with an ink color of ebony black. Useful and generally thoughtful, but also not really needed at the moment. Nym laughed when she saw that one, and Harry felt his face go a shade of red from Nym's teasing before quickly hiding the book amongst his other things. Somewhere in the Tonks' house, a shadow chuckled in amusement at Harry's flustered nature.

It seemed fate had a cruel sense of humor on the Potter boy's reading exploits, as the second gift was _yet another_ book. But, this one actually seemed useful to Harry at the moment as it was a magical cookbook with a few utensils added in. It was partnered with a note that read: 'Everyone needs to learn how to cook and do a bloody good job!' The note, as well as his name on the tag, was written in rather lavish penmanship with a fire red ink. He thanked whoever sent this one out loud, and the Tonks replied with a soft murmur in the fireplace.

The final present was immediately confiscated by his family for being very dangerous. A ritual carving knife _set;_ not illegal, but most definitely dangerous. And very, _very_ costly. One knife goes for about a hundred galleons, but a full _set_? Well over twenty thousand. And this was no ordinary set either. No, this was a set of knives for _every_ ritual ever conceived. The Tonks promised that he'd get it back in several years. After he learned the dangers of ritual mishaps.

Oddly, another response followed this one. Somewhere on the stairs, there came a very slow creak. Everyone present figured it was the cold getting to the house again. But Harry was sure he saw a few silhouettes loitering around on the stairs or by the wall close by. But with a blink, they were gone. Probably ghosts, he surmised. Every house or cottage or castle or burrow had at least one.

The last of the mystery gifts, which was the last of all his presents, was met with a squeeing Harry. An invisibility cloak! Oh, the mischief he could get up to with _this_ baby. He draped it over his shoulders almost immediately, feeling the material that was almost like water to his hands. He had a bit of fun with it, making only certain parts of his body visible while the rest was hidden. Nym glanced to the floor and picked up a note. "Oi, Harry, this fell out of it, whatsit say?"

Harry gave it a once over before speaking, "Your father, bless his soul, left this in my position to give to you on Christmas of your first year at Hogwarts in case he passed away in the war. It is my belief he wanted you to use this until you were well entrenched in Hogwarts and had charmed the teachers into looking away from any mischief you may cause. Please, do not cause mischief. Try and resist the temptation to wander the hallways after hours." Harry paused. "Oh yes, Merry Christmas to you and your family."

Suddenly, a loud banging was heard at the door. "OPEN UP, TONKS!" A voice boomed from the outside. Tipsy popped in with a raised eyebrow.

Ted turned towards the poor House Elf and said. "Yes, Tipsy, please get the door before those buffoons piss off the whole neighborhood."

Sighing, the house elf popped away. So very _loud_ they were, and Tipsy wasn't the young elf she once was.

Moments later, Sirius and Remus walked into the room with presents in hand. Sirius spoke up first, "Harry, Nymphadora, Andi, Ted, wonderful to see you! Happy Christmas all!" He passed his presents around and avoided a slap from _Nym._

Remus, decidedly slower than his boisterous friend, handed out the presents slower, with an extra pat to the head for Harry and a quieter greeting to all.

The adults exchanged pleasantries while Harry tore into his last two gifts. From Sirius, he got a grab bag from Zonko's, and from Remus, he got, bloody hell, a book on transfiguration. At this rate, Harry was going to be as much of a bibliophile as Hermione. All the same, he hugged his two dog-fathers and gave them his own gifts, which they tore into with voracity.

"Soooo…," Sirius said as he sipped his hot cocoa. "How's Hogwarts? Classes okay, melt any hearts, cause unspeakable mischief?"

Harry nodded. "Classes are, well, they're _fine._ I've been getting Acceptable and above. Professor Snape isn't as much as a 'spiteful git' as you said he would be, and I think Professor Quirrell is a Dark Wizard. He's on my list of suspects. As for melting any hearts, naturally, all the ladies of Hogwarts from my fellow first years to Professor McGonagall herself is utterly in love with me. Oh, and I fought a troll before dinner one night. And won."

Remus returned his nod. "Good lad, keep up the good work. Though next time you fight a troll, remember to bring a snack in case you get hungry."

The Tonks and his dog-fathers chuckled, while Harry smiled. They really were going to _freak out_ when they find out he hasn't lied to them.

MEANWHILE

Narcissa Malfoy and her husband were worried. They hadn't seen Draco in some time. Dobby hadn't seen him, he wasn't at a friends house, and there was seemingly nothing to indicate where he _could_ be. Lucius was just about to call on the Aurors to find his son when he heard his wife sigh from another room.

"Nevermind, dear. I know where he is." She came back holding a note. "I found this on the dining room table."

The note in question was a rather small thing no bigger than a post-it note. The bright purple scrawl on the bone white paper read:

 _ **CHRISTMAS**_

Sincerely, your future daughter-in-law, Polina Cura! ;P

Lucius Malfoy thought he smelled, tasted, and saw peppermint wrapped in eggnog wafting from the note left by that Polina girl, but he was sure it was just his imagination. He also looked exhausted and exacerbated all at once. Combined, this whole eventful morning had given him a rather massive headache. At times, he regretted the deal he made to get out of prison. Other times, he was just grateful they only wanted his first-born son. They could have asked for more, Merlin, they could have asked for his _wife_ and she would have gone with them!

'Oh well,' he thought as he put the note down and went to spend the day with his wife. 'At least he'll be happy. _Eventually_.'


	13. Chapter 13

Harry Potter and First the Rejection of Canon

Chapter 13:

It's High Voltage!

Our young hero had scarcely arrived back at Hogwarts when he was assaulted by a Hermione Hug Missile, which he returned with what he _attempted_ as equal fervor. He didn't even come close.

"Harry!" Hermione let go of Harry. "Thank you for the transfiguration textbook with the notes in the margin, they really helped my spell-work!"

"You're welcome, Hermione," Harry began. "Thank you for the full set of The Lord of the Rings, it was very thoughtful. And inspiring." Already, daydreams of what he would be able to accomplish with his _own_ fellowship had taken root. He imagined it would be much like the adventure he was in now, only with more sword-fighting and politics.

They spent a few more minutes talking until Polina smacked them both on the back. "Hoy there, buds! How was your break?"

"Eventful," Harry answered. "Got to see lots of my extended family and equal time to enjoy my new stuff. How about yours?"

"Oh, Draco and I had _loads_ of fun!" The raven-haired girl grinned widely, eyes just as large. "Sadly, we didn't have enough space to house the _entire_ Malfoy family. But his parents had a nice relaxing weekend, so Draco was told."

"Where is Draco anyway?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, he is still in the Slytherin common room. We just got back, so he needs time to unpack and present himself."

Harry blinked. Draco had just got back? But...he could have sworn he had seen him arrive before he left the common room himself; even said hello and everything.

Polina interrupted his thoughts. "Thanks for the gifts, by the way. Draco enjoyed his books on muggle aircraft. Should have seen the look on his face at the dog-eared page on helicopters."

"But…," Harry stammered. "I didn't give him that."

"I know." Polina winked and stuck her tongue out. "I'm using you as a scapegoat."

Hermione coughed a little loudly. It was enough to make a few other Hogwarts students turn their heads. Clearly, she didn't want to think anyone was using her bestest friend as anything without her permission. "Speaking of gifts, were you the one who dropped off a smorgasbord of candies that were both magical and muggle?"

"Yes indeedy!" Polina flipped her hair a little. "Figured you and the family needed something besides sugarplums and candy canes to munch on. How are your parents taking the whole Hogwarts thing?"

"Very well, actually. They are very proud of my grades and are excited about everything I told them relating to my classes, the teachers, my friends..."

"You didn't tell them anything about our escapades, right?" Harry asked quickly.

"Of course not!" Hermione replied.

Suddenly, a very sullen and sallow Draco showed up. His already pale face seemed a shade whiter, his blond hair lacking in luster. He was muttering under his breath and Harry could barely make out a 'why were there so many ostriches?' and 'Thank Merlin Valka has eggnog' among other random phrases.

"Don't mind him," Polina waved off Harry's concern and Hermione's questioning eyebrow. "I kidnapped him, so we spent Christmas at my Uncles' Bed and Breakfast."

"Oh," Hermione said, "I thought all your Uncles were magical. Is it just yourself and Professor Zaine?"

"No no no," Polina hurriedly explained. "They are _all_ magical, they just like running the cozy little house for fun. Seeing new people, learning about their lives, stuff like that. You'd be surprised at how many people who have some bad press show up at a place where no one cares about your past and treats you just like they treat all their other guests." She paused here for a moment. "Of course, I'm not saying they do all the work themselves, the staff they hire do most of the physical work; laundry, cleaning, cooking, and the rest. They mostly handle the paperwork and have a tendency to talk to the guests about it. Uncle Vic is the most popular among the staff though, he likes to micromanage, so he's a constant presence among both staff and guests. And when you are around people long enough and have a generally pleasant demeanor, people start liking you more."

"So…" Harry started to ask, "If Vic is the most popular, does that mean there is a least popular?"

"Not uh," Polina stuttered. "Not _really_. The other Uncles have their own areas of expertise: Uncle Zaine likes handling the front desk, keeping track of who comes and who goes, Uncle Ezra likes to keep an eye on the kitchens and gets a lot of compliments for his dishes, and Uncle Shine likes to mess around with the decor."

"Wait." Harry stopped her. "Shine? As in Shine _Azure_? Famous Hit-Wizard notorious for taking down class five-x dangerous creatures with household maintenance spells? **That** Shine?"

"Oh, you've heard of him?" Polina smiled innocently.

"I…well.." Harry was a bit frightened. Hit-Wizard Shine Azure was her Uncle. Professor Zaine Statera, in his scarred glory, was her Uncle. Who Ezra and Vic were, he didn't know. But _why_ were these dangerous people related to his good, if a bit weird, friend Polina? Damn, he's wasted too much time being worried for his friend, time to change the subject! "Anyway, how goes the search for Nicolas Flamel, the famous person who is hiding a treasure we are all pursuing?" Nailed it.

Polina took the bait, oddly enough. "Well, when I asked my Uncles they just all started singing a Disney song. You know, the one the villain sings in Pocahontas?"

"No Polina," Draco said. Everyone forgot he was there. "No, I do not."

"Hush Draco," Polina shushed him. "The civilized people are talking."

Draco sighed in response, deciding to kill time by leaning on the wall and imagining what he'd do with his share of the treasure once they found it.

Hermione, meanwhile, decided to tell the group what her parents found. "Actually, I did ask my parents for help but worded it as an extra credit assignment over break. We may have found us a lead." Suddenly Draco was interested again, as were the rest of the children. "See, Nicolas Flamel is a famous alchemist in non-magical literature, famed for 'creating' the Philosopher's Stone, which can transmute things into gold and can create an Elixer of Life which can extend your life."

Several eyebrows were raised, and Harry voiced his thoughts. "I don't think that's the treasure we are looking for. If Nicolas Flamel is famous for something in the _non_ -magical world, it's likely a red herring type thing, something to throw people off their game. To be honest, I recently learned there is a charm to expand the interior of a tent."

Polina gasped. "You mean the thing you saw Professor Statera take out of the vault could have been a vault of treasure in and of itself _inside_ a goblin vault?!"

Draco's eyes were wide. "Dia _bolical_."

Harry nodded. "If not a vault of treasure, it was probably something like that; bigger than it seemed and enchanted to be much lighter. Maybe not a full vault, but a thing that does _something_. Maybe it transports you to the treasure of Nicolas Flamel or...yeah."

"Seems logical." Hermione smiled, happy her friends were smarter than the other kids at her primary school. "And if he made a stone that enhanced a person's lifespan, he'd be spoken of more often by the professors' as something to aspire to."

"Hold on a moment," Draco interjected. "Maybe the Philosophers Stone is a distraction, but it's still a solid lead. We should check the library later for any mention of it anyways, even if it's just a paragraph that says, 'the philosophers stone is a muggle myth for Nicolas Flamel's true invention, the so-and-so.' We'll find _something_ at least."

Polina hugged Draco and ruffled his hair. "Who's a smart cookie! You are! Yes, you are!" To those who didn't know Polina, they would say she's mocking the Malfoy heir. Her friends knew it was just her way of showing approval.

It was done to them too, after all.

Draco, after fixing his hair, decided to talk about the next most important thing to him, after the treasure of course. "So, Quidditch?"

Harry looked over at Draco with a deadpan expression. "Why yes, Draco. It still exists."

Draco sighed. Philistines. "No, I mean the match coming up, Snape is refereeing. We going?"

Hermione nodded furiously. "We should go. I may not be the biggest fan of the sport, but we have to keep an eye on our suspects to make sure _they_ don't sabotage the game. And if they do, we need to be there to prevent the other students from getting hurt.

Polina nodded. "I don't like it, but that sounds reasonable. We should split the party when we do so, spread ourselves thin and lower our chances of succeeding against a more powerful opponent."

Harry sighed. He hated being the voice of reason. "Splitting up _is_ a reasonable solution, Polina. We are children. Even if we all ganged up on them, there isn't much more we can do other than distract them. Better to keep an eye out on all our suspects, than a few of the most likely ones.

"Have you been practicing your Incendio spells?" Hermione piped in, ever the voice of the fire starter.

"I'm not saying I _didn't_ …" said Draco, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "But I'm a bit better with the Leg-Locking Jinx. Prank spells are supposed to be easier to perform for kids our age after all. And if we light the suspects on fire too often, they'd develop countermeasures against it."

Hermione glared at Draco slightly. "You…have a point. Who is going after who?"

Polina grabbed Draco, as usual. "We'll keep an eye on the professors we don't have this year. If they do nothing when something happens, we can cross out a _lot_ of teachers on the list."

Hermione stood close to Harry. "We'll keep an eye out on the professors we _do_ have for the same reason."

Draco reached over and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We'll get dragged along by you girls and do whatever you tell us, apparently."

Harry's right hand grabbed his left hand. "I didn't want to be left out."

Everybody sighed and untangled themselves, then went off for food and the rest of their classes.

Later, in the library, the group had grabbed every book they could find on alchemy. Harry and Draco grabbed all the battle applications, because yes. Polina and Hermione meanwhile grabbed all the books on practical applications, because alchemy is a useful thing to know. They each made significant progress in their research but still found nothing. Even going back two hundred years of their history, they found not one useful thing.

"I just don't get it!" Whispered Hermione. "There should be _something_ in here, but we've found absolutely nothing!

Polina sighed. "I know Hermione, it seems very implausible. I'm beginning to suspect foul play here."

Draco and Harry were not paying attention, having gotten distracted discussing their Chocolate Card collection with Neville, who had come in for a Potions assignment and also gotten dragged in. At the moment, Harry was discussing the rarity of Morganna; despite Merlin being a key figure in their world, his nemesis was at least ten times as rare to find. "Cards that mention other cards have no business being as rare as they are!" He argued.

Neville nodded. "I know what you mean. I've been trying to find Nicolas Flamel for _years_ , but all I've seen of him is a mention on Dumbledore's card."

Draco and Harry perked up, the Malfoy quickly addressing Neville. "Really? We've been independently researching Nicolas Flamel for _months_ now and haven't found anything. What did Dumbledore's card say about him?"

Harry grabbed a notebook and quill, sensing vital information.

Neville, happy to help an acquaintance such as Harry and a stranger he knows the name of like Draco, answered them. "Oh, they worked together on the 12 Uses of Dragon's Blood, and that Flamel created the Philosopher's Stone."

Harry dropped his quill in dumbfounded horror. Draco dropped his jaw. They both looked to each other, looked back at Neville to thank him, and lept over their chairs to join the girls.

"NICOLAS FLAMEL IS IMMORTAL." Harry somehow whispered loudly. "Neville said he _did_ create the Philosopher's Stone! _That's_ why we couldn't find him! We were looking for a descendant, someone who made a treasure in recent years, but it was the legitimate Flamel we needed to search for!"

Polina looked at Harry and Draco blankly. "Wut."

Hermione sighed loud enough that she was shushed by Madam Pince. "Let me get my book on Most Famous Magicals of All Time."

Five minutes later she came back with a book that had no business being as big as it was, seeing as all their History teacher talked about was one Goblin War and never anything else. "Flamel, Flamel…yep, here he is. 600 years ago, I was only at 430…he _did_ create the stone. So the treasure is a literally infinite treasure and infinite life." She brightened considerably. "Alright, I'm excited again!"

Polina, Draco, and Harry shared her sentiments.

* * *

Later at the Quidditch match, the group put their plan into action: Polina dragged Draco off nearer to the teachers who were at the game, but not in their year while Hermione dragged Harry off to the few teachers in their year who showed up. Professor McGonagall was up in the announcer's box, keeping an eye on Lee Jordan, who would undoubtedly bring his bias into the Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff game.

So focused were they on the Professors that they didn't notice anything happening in the air. Luckily, nothing suspicious happened. To be fair though, they didn't have a lot of time on the pitch, Sally had caught the snitch in the first ten minutes, and it was over; Gryffindor was now 3rd place ahead of Hufflepuff for the House Cup.

Harry had led the group towards the Forbidden Forest to discuss their next course of action, wary that the portraits of the castle or other such things would spy on them and report to the evil invading their school.

"Yeah, I don't actually think we have a bad guy at the school anymore. Or treasure for that matter." Draco said, startling the group.

"But…what?!" Polina could not believe her ears.

"Look, hear me out!" Draco waved his hands. "Sure, the Headmaster is powerful and all, but what are the odds we _actually_ have a Dark Wizard in the castle with a treasure that grants infinite treasure and infinite life? Why would anyone hide that thing here? And we've been running around the castle for _months_ now, finding hidden passages …and nothing. I'm not saying we _stop_ looking and having an adventure, but maybe we shift our focus?" Draco shrugged.

Harry wanted to answer him, but before he could answer Polina covered his mouth with her hand and pointed with her other one. Her outstretched finger was aimed at a black cloaked figure slinking into the forest a few hundred meters away. Harry turned triumphantly to Draco, who looked abashed.

Hermione sighed, picked up her wand, and _ran_. She wasn't going to be left behind!

Harry, Polina, and Draco blinked and then raced to catch up with Hermione. It turned out to be a decent idea, because as soon as they caught up with Hermione, they saw she was behind a tree and gesturing wildly at them to be quiet, shivering and looking fearful. They understood why almost immediately because they heard voices.

"I _suggest_ whatever business you have here concludes soon. Dumbledore is beginning to suspect my loyalties…yours as well, 'Professor.' Time here is running short." That was the voice of Professor Snape!

" _Do not presume to_ _ **suggest**_ _anything to me, Severus. I know full well what needs to be done. Unfortunately, it seems Dumbledore, knowing the Stone is in danger, has added a new measure of protection. He placed the Fidelious…somewhere. I have Quirrell searching for information."_ That voice was…wrong… He understood why Hermione looked afraid. Just hearing that voice sent a feeling of revulsion down his spine as if his body was rejecting the idea of that voice merely existing. And Quirrell was in on whatever it is too?!

"I understand…master…" Master? Snape had a master?

" _Am I truly Severus? As I understand, you have yourself a bride and have been making yourself an asset to Dumbledore. We'll have another rendezvous later, my 'servant,' once you decide where it is your loyalties_ _ **lie**_. _Now leave!_ "

"Yes, master." With the sound of billowy robes fluttering and boots leading away from them, the students stood petrified until they could no longer hear footsteps and then ran in the other direction to the castle as fast as possible!

Five minutes of running, and into the safety of the castle, the Four finally managed to catch their breath.

"Morganna's saggy _tits!_ " Hermione swore. "I was skeptical about _one_ professor in Hogwarts being a villain, but we have a full-blown _conspiracy_ here!"

"I agree, only replaced with Merlin's saggy _balls_!" Draco flopped to the floor. "Our Head of _House_ is an enemy. This was a silly _game_ we were playing, but what do we do now?"

Harry stood up, attempting and somewhat succeeding in looking brave. "We do what we have to. Tell a trusted teacher, tell Headmaster Dumbledore, and keep an eye on Snape and Quirrell until the danger is past. We can't do much, but we can do this much at least. We'll make it through this, and that… _thing_ won't win. It won't get the Stone."

The others almost looked convinced.

* * *

 **[A/N]:** I'll be honest here, I'm kind of losing interest in writing this. Oh, don't get me wrong, book 1 will be finished on time, I started this thing, and it will end _when I damn well say it ends_. I just feel like taking a break after book 1. Maybe a month or two while I work on writing my own book, start a blog or something. The point is, less time focused on HP after 1 is done.

Also please get to my bio and vote on how the next book is structured. Right now, it's tied to, let me double check…yep. 0 to 0 tie. I talked with my editor, and we feel like combining the two books, but we want to wait for opinions to be known before committing.


	14. Chapter 14

[ Editor note: Hello everyone! Thanks for waiting for this one to be completed, both the writer and I appreciate it. This particular series has been fun to co-write and edit so far, but we both want to know what you all think and what you may want for the next installment. Would you like two books in one, or have Year 2 and 3 be separate? We already have a plan in case we don't hear back from anyone, but the writer especially wants to hear feedback, criticisms, etc. so we can weave and tailor our tales to the best we can. Anyways, here we go!]

* * *

Harry Potter and First the Rejection of Canon

Chapter 14:

Can you feel the heat?

Dumbledore was a simple man. He worked tirelessly as Headmaster, ensuring harsh but fair educational standards while maintaining an environment of whimsy to keep students from burning out. He effortlessly maintained the position of Chief Warlock as well, which to be honest…didn't require much. He presides over most of the Wizengamot hearings, but there are so few that it's practically inconsequential. He is also the Supreme Mugwump for the International Confederation of Wizards (hat job takes the bulk of his time). He's been doing everything he can to make sure the Wizarding World not only experiences peace but enjoys it! He has few moments available to him to simply relax.

Which is why he's currently popping Lemon Drops, savoring the sour flavor, and reading various books restricted from the wider Wizarding World on account of them being out of date or because said various books were on Dark magic that was banned in Britain for being too complicated for the average magical to comprehend. Many would be surprised to see the Leader of the Light reading such materials. However, it should be known that to protect the Light requires one to understand the Dark. It's both a hobby and a side project he undertakes: significant enough to warrant his time but not so much as it drives his passions. It's a quiet, peaceful time for him. An escape from the world that almost seems to rely on him for practically every little thing.

Which is why when four students show up and begin pounding on the door to his office, it's completely understandable why he would be…upset. With a sigh, he closed his book and opened the door to see Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Polina looking quite pale. "What seems to be the emergency? Please note that if it involves a creature in the Forbidden Forest, it is legally Wizengamot property and any requests must pass through the proper channels. I can do nothing but facilitate the process." Sad how things ended up, but there is naught he can do.

Harry took a gulp. Clearly, whatever was bugging him was certainly important…at least to the young student. "Headmaster Dumbledore, we know or are reasonably certain the Philosophers Stone is in the castle. We have no idea where it could be, we've been hunting for treasure and such in the castle almost since we arrived, mostly as a game. We made a list of suspects who might be after the stone, and recently we headed off into the Forbidden Forest to chase after a cloaked figure to see who it was. There was a…thing there, talking to Professor Snape and Snape acknowledged it as 'master.' It wanted the stone and mentioned Quirrell as another of its servants. We figure you've got some measure of protection on the Stone, it said something about a Fidelius, but speaking frankly, sir…"

"This thing scares the shit out of me, sir." Polina looked at him. "Harry said it best; this was just a silly game for us, now it seems there is a legitimate threat to the school."

Well…it certainly was important.

Dumbledore frowned. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, students. I do indeed have many measures in place to foil the scoundrel, and I know about Professor Quirrell… Sadly, we can do nothing. I cannot fire him without absolute proof of wrongdoings, and the words of four first years do not count, unfortunately." The Headmaster took this moment to hold up a finger in a manner that was both inquisitive and to alert the students that what he was about to say was serious and secret. "I would also ask you to keep this information to yourselves."

"What?!" Hermione squeaked. "But the students are in danger!" Righteous indignation flowed through her.

Dumbledore gave yet another deep, tired sigh. "While true, the students would be in danger regardless. If you'd like, compare this situation to the one with the troll. Dangerous, yes, but only if you are unprepared. As unlikely as you may believe it now, I am prepared. Very, VERY prepared. Alerting the entire student body would alert Quirrell and his apparent master that he is in danger, which would make him behave erratically. At the moment, we know where he is, and he can't so much as injure the students without giving himself away and losing out on the Stone."

"Wouldn't it be easier to move the Stone to another location?" Draco asked hopefully.

"Much as I would like to," Dumbledore began, "I cannot. The Stone would be at risk anywhere, but here, on my field, I control all aspects of it and can limit all risks down to effectively zero."

Hermione frowned. "The Stone is safe, that much I can believe, but what about us?"

Dumbledore smiled, and Harry grew afraid. "I once stood back and let many people die. I could make excuses, but the simple fact of the matter is that I carried plenty of blame. Never again. Should anything threaten the balance, and risk so much loss of life, you can be sure this time I will not hesitate." He kneeled to look the frightened children in the eye. "I know things seem scary now, and it feels like I prioritize the safety of the Stone over the children. That is quite certainly not the case. Nothing will harm any of my students. Not now, not ever again." He then pat them on the head. "Now, off you go to the common rooms. I have some business to take care of."

He ushered them gently out of the room and shut the door. And after a few seconds to make sure the students had gone, Dumbledore closed his eyes, took a cleansing breath, and walked back to his desk. "He had to leave the school and enter the Forbidden Forest, didn't he?" The Headmaster began to mumble aloud to himself in an annoyed tone. "The only place where I do not have any way of keeping an eye on him. Bloody arsehole. Who the hell does he think he is?" He sighed and introduced an old, tired hand to his face. "And why didn't the Fidelious work on the Stone? All that needed to happen was for Quirrell to 'remember' I keep a treasure somewhere in the castle. Then his and Riddle's greed would drive him to 'find' a warded area just outside the skill of a Hogwarts graduate, work his way through the Fidelious, and meet a horrible end at the jaws of a Cerberus or any one of the deadly traps in the area! Now that he knows I've hidden a treasure great enough to warrant multiple protections he'll be more cautious…"

"No…," he said. "No, I can't wait for him to stumble in anymore…I need to force him into the trap. Hmm…" He stroked his beard. "I'll need to start with having Hagrid patrol the Forest. Fully armed. I need to drive him to the 'safety' of the castle…"

* * *

Meanwhile with the heroes of the story…

"I am totally freaking out here!" Draco whispered furiously.

"Abso-bloody -lutely," Harry said. "What the hell are we supposed to do with this information? The Headmaster seems to have things well in hand, but I am well and truly frightened."

Hermione looked a little pale. "I…I don't know any spells to help." She felt awful. All the studying, all the fantasy novels…they couldn't help her. They couldn't help her friends. She felt very small at that moment.

Polina sighed. "I get the general idea. And while I would normally suggest we tough it out on our own while trusting the Headmaster to protect us when things go pear-shaped…" As she took a moment to think, the others stared at her and waited with bated breath. "…I think we need to talk to the school counselor," she finished.

"We have a counselor?" Hermione asked, eyes wide.

"It wasn't something meant for the first years, only circulated to the third years and up when it was implemented," Polina told the group. "When things start…changing in the students, they were meant to go talk to him."

"Him? You know him?" Draco, who had since calmed down slightly, questioned. "How do you know him?"

Polina sighed. "Well, along with being the Muggle Studies Professor, Uncle Zaine has the job. Volunteered even. Which I am sure everyone else was happy to give him honestly since teenagers can be…ya know…."

Harry suddenly got suspicious. "I…I hate to ask you this Polina, but can we trust him? I don't remember us being very suspicious of him, but we thought the same of Quirrell."

"Uncle Zaine? Serving some lunatic with delusions of grandeur?" She scoffed, then froze. "Okay, so maybe Zaine doesn't so much as serve Uncle Victor, he just defers to his seniority. When it is convenient. But I can assure you that Victor isn't the villain here…" She froze. "Okay, he isn't our villain."

Draco just nodded along as if he knew what Polina was talking about. Harry meanwhile was trying to process all that info.

Hermione meanwhile gave a frown. "If that was meant to be reassuring, you've failed horribly."

"Yeah, I could have phrased that better, but the point I was trying to make was that Uncle Zaine has our backs. And if Vic were up to something dastardly, blasphemous, heroic, or downright weird, as usual with his M.O., he'd send us a handwritten note, so we don't get in his way; common courtesy and all that. He's very big on being courteous. I once saw him break a man's arm because he cut in line." Polina tried. She just…she tried, okay?

"Polina. This. This is not helping." Draco mumbled.

"Wait, heroic?" Hermione blinked.

"Dastardly villain…?" Harry said in a daze, getting a serious headache from it all.

Polina stopped them all, raising her voice and stomping her foot. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that we should go talk to the bloody school counselor, who happens to be my uncle! He isn't working with whatever that the bad thing is! He's capable, he's intelligent, and he's on our side!"

A few seconds of silence followed as her voice echoed down the halls of Hogwarts. Somewhere, a voice gave a snort of amusement. And in that time, Polina calmed down fully and readjusted her hair as if nothing happened.

Hermione sighed. "If you can trust him that much, then I suppose we can try."

A thought occurred to Harry, which he voiced. "You know, if he wanted the Stone, he could have just stolen it right at the start. There is no reason to stay after he accomplished his goal. It's why I crossed him off my list."

Hermione introduced her hand to her face. "I cannot believe we forgot about that part. I also can't believe you didn't lead with that Polina."

Said girl shrugged. "Meh, not as fun as letting all y'alls squirm."

The four, led by Polina, walked straight to an office marked 'Muggle Studies Prof/School Counselor.' When she was in arms reach of the door, the raven-haired girl proceeded to bang on the door quite loudly. Inside, there was a sound of crashing symbols, the quack of a duck, and a distant explosion. Harry looked around and saw that only Hermione shared his perturbed look, while Polina and Draco accepted the weirdness as if it was normal. Little did he know, around Zaine such things were normal, and Draco was Polina's property and thus got used to his intended's extended family.

"I'm comin', I'm comin', just stop the damn knocking already!" This was the voice of their apparent ally. Hermione was losing confidence by the second. The door was yanked open by a distinctly angry looking Zaine. Today, he was dressed in a rather comfortable yet professional purple button-up shirt accented by an orange and black striped tie, and black slacks. His angry glare lost all of its one-eyed focus as he beheld the assembled students. "Niece and the rest! How are…you?" He glanced at each one individually before resting on the frown etched on Polina's face. "That serious, huh? Come in, then, and let's hear it." He turned around walked back to his desk. "Feel free to take a candy out of the dish on the table, I hear it helps."

The Slytherin girl led the group to the chairs, sitting down in one clearly meant for a seventh-year student. Thus, her legs dangled. Draco immediately went for some of the candy, probably needing something to take his mind off what was going on. Harry sat between Hermione and Draco.

"I'll be honest here, Unc," Polina ran a hand through her hair worriedly, "We're kind of in deep."

Zaine sat across from her, fingers interlocked together like a businessman hearing a deal. "I'm all ears, wonder niece. Tell me your woes."

Polina then launched into a summarized version of her time at Hogwarts. As she talked, Harry noticed Zaine twitching oddly the entire time, making him suspect he was like Professor Flitwick and Hagrid, human but with creature ancestry. The movements he was making seemed too natural to be faked, and too surreal for a human to make. He also observed how…professional this office looked. The desk was of a humble polished oak, and the chairs were comfortable yet also stiff enough to where one wouldn't immediately fall asleep.

Sadly, he didn't have too much time to observe anything else because Polina finally got around to the voice in the forest. "The sound that it made was…wrong. Like a thing that shouldn't be in this world, it…it kinda scared me. Us, I mean."

Professor Zaine's reaction made Harry realize that, if anything, Zaine was at least on Polina's side. The sudden stillness after his many twitches, the soft frown denoting he was trying not to show his anger, the tightness of his grip that had moved to the armchair during the talk. Yes, if anything, Harry could trust that Professor Zaine would look out for Polina, and her friends by association.

After a few seconds of the young man remaining still, the Professor began to speak. "I…see." He took a deep breath and let it out. "I'll keep an eye on Quirrell and Snape, but I know Dumbledore. He definitely has a plan. I…I don't like interfering too much, so I tend to stay off in the sidelines, but what you've told me… There isn't much I can do if Dumbledore can't do anything overtly, but none of the students are in danger. As long as they keep out of trouble, that is." He raised his eyebrow at Harry. "You will keep them out of trouble, Harry?" It wasn't a question.

"Ye-" Harry gulped. "Yes, sir."

Like a switch, Profesor Zaine was all smiles. "Great! I knew I could count on you, kiddo! Don't you worry kiddies, Uncle Professor Counsellor Zaine won't let anything nasty happen! Not if Dumbledore has anything to say about it!"

Polina sagged in her seat. Harry noticed she seemed much less tense. It was reassuring to see the one he looked up to calmer. Draco and Hermione took their cues from Polina and Harry, losing their tension as well.

"Thanks, Mister Uncle Professor Counsellor Zaine," Polina said with a soft smile. "I know you have things well in hand."

Professor Zaine released a short laugh. "Yes, indeed. We have things well in hand, kiddies. Now, off you go. As much as I love company, ya can't hog my office all day!"

Polina grabbed Draco and dragged him out. Hermione shrugged, grabbed Harry, and dragged him off as well. As Polina left, Harry shut the door behind him.

If he had better hearing, he would have heard Professor Zaine's muttering clearly. "Tch, damn kids these days can't mind their own business. Ah…but then again who am I to judge that part? Reminds me of a younger, less durable me. And Shine. And Ezra. And…basically everyone. …I'll need to hurry up here; lots to do, and only a few years to do it. We should only just make it…I can't wait to see the results, especially of our first project…"

It was a good thing no one of the group heard Zaine. Otherwise, they might have felt less reassured.


	15. Chapter 15

Harry Potter and First the Rejection of Canon

Chapter Fifteen:

A Plan is Planned

Dumbledore sighed. Murphy must have decided his remaining time on Earth was to be packed with misfortune. The most current thing: Hagrid broke his chair when he sat down on it. It's always such a bother to repair it…luckily, when he turned around to look at his fancy baubles he heard the chair 'miraculously' repair 'itself.' How convenient for him. And when he turned around to face Hagrid, it seemed the chair decided it would support the half-giant this time around. Yes. Lucky Dumbledore, that's what they call him.

"Thank you, Hagrid, for coming to see me." He started. "I'm afraid I have some… _news_. I have received information that a Dark Wizard has been sighted in the forest."

Hagrid gasped. "'Eadmaster Dumbledore, sir! The centaurs tol' me abou' how some-a-tha unicorns have been missing from the herd! D'ya think…?"

"Ah…that is disconcerting indeed." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "With this information, it's entirely possible that this particular Dark Wizard is indeed killing unicorns for their blood. Sad, true, but this also means that our foe is close to death, near enough to risk even being cursed…"

Hagrid looked ready to explode. "This…is not good. Not. At. _All._ "

The Headmaster nodded. "Yes. Unfortunately, we cannot present this to the Wizengamot for review until we have _concrete_ proof that a unicorn herd is being targeted for Dark purposes. Speculation doesn't invoke much of a response at all."

"But…But you're Dumbledore! The head of the Wizengamot!" Hagrid looked ready to burst into tears.

Dumbledore, as he has done many times over the years, and much more so since Harry started Hogwarts, sighed. "Yes, and if I 'abuse' my power in this way, they would have cause to remove me from that position. We'll have to do some investigating ourselves before we present this to Amel- I mean Director Bones." It's hard to remember that the students he presided over for some time left these grounds to become respected members of society. "With that in mind, I have a job for you, my friend."

"O'course, sir!" Hagrid instantly responded.

Dumbledore held back a chuckle; the man was too pure for this world, to be so trusting. "I need you to patrol the forest, do everything you can to drive the Dark Wizard out of the forest, as well as generally keeping an eye out for any slain unicorns so that we may involve the Auror force."

"Yessir, right away!"

And when Dumbledore looked his old friend in his eyes, he saw that perhaps he had misjudged Hagrid. That was _not_ a look of a 'pure spirit.' The man looked ready to murder the ever-loving _crap_ out of anything that stood between him and the gentle beasts of the forest.

That, and Hagrid somehow _already_ had a crossbow and was holding his umbrella in a vaguely threatening manner. Yeah, that 'mysterious' Dark Wizard was powerful to be sure, but Hagrid was a wizard-trained half-giant with an affinity for deadly creatures.

"This is why the heroes in stories always win," He said to himself as Hagrid left. "They _always_ assemble a motley crew that's far more skilled than the fodder that the villains employ." Dumbledore now openly chuckled. "In all the stories, the villain _never_ recruits someone more interesting than they are, and if _somehow_ they do, that character always dies leaving us wishing for that other guy to come back."

He suddenly frowned. "I've got: a half-goblin champion duelist. A transfigurations expert animagus. An accredited, but quirky seer. Two plucky young teachers well on their way to becoming experts. The youngest potions master ever with a dark and troubled past. A herbology expert with a fiercely violent protective streak and who knows more about this castle than _I_ do. A castle full of ghosts. And a Hagrid. I…I'm too old to be the main character. That means I'm a mentor figure…and so are everyone else in this castle…then who is…" Oh. Shit. "Harry Potter is the main character. Damn it. I better not be destined to die before I help Harry solve the whole 'Voldemort' issue. The boy is too young to have a story about duels between light and dark and all that crap. And I _still_ haven't found a way to remove that _blasted_ Horcrux in his head! That has been gnawing at me for _years_ now!"

Said student was currently enjoying a snack while studying some simple transfiguration textbooks. Around him were his friends: the bookworm with a loyal streak the width of a _city_ and who had a penchant for fire, his nemesis turned fast friend, and Polina, who was a type all her own. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a faint ripple in the air but put it off as a trick of the light.

"So…" Polina put down her book. "On a scale of one to 'oh god,' how bored is everybody?"

Harry looked her straight in the eye. "I'm at 'I don't want to die so I'll sit here and wait for the Professionals to solve the problem even though I care not a whit for studying."

"Seconded." Muttered Draco.

"Well, _I'm_ having a good time," Hermione said. "And _honestly_ , how couldn't you be interested in some of these books? Grudolpho the Decent managed to transfigure a hill into a sleeping _dragon_ to ward off _other dragons_. Boys are supposed to like this sort of thing."

Harry sighed. "It was awesome the first time we read it, but the 'how-to' says we need to study dragon anatomy and _that_ ," he held up his _Anatomy of the Hungarian Horntail_ textbook. "Is very boring indeed."

Polina blinked. "Wait. What? How the hell did I miss _that_?" She held up her own book, _1001 Household Uses of Minor Transfiguration_. "…I know it isn't any of your fault but mine, but I hate you all."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Actually, can I get that when you're done?"

Polina glared at him.

"No, seriously." Draco confidently stared back. "If Shine Azure can take on class five-x missions with simple spells, it might be good to learn that."

Polina glared harder. "I don't know if you are serious or trying to get me to be quiet while you study dragon anatomy to _learn to transfigure dragons_ but know this…" she buried her nose in the book. "It bloody _worked_."

Hermione sighed and quietly closed her textbook. "Look, I know none of us really want to talk about it but…"

"Oh, thank the Elder Gods!" Polina slammed her book back down and stared at Hermione.

"Yes…well." Hermione coughed. "I really think we need to talk more about what happened and what we'll do about it. We've done our part as _students_ and told the teachers, but not our part as _citizens_."

Harry put down his own book. "I want to do something Hermione, really I do. But I…," he pointed at himself, "…am an eleven-year-old with no combat training at all. There isn't anything I _can_ do, as evidenced that when faced with a troll to save our lives my first reaction was: hit it very hard."

Draco nodded. "A troll is one thing, a Dark Wizard having a solid plan for immortality is another one entirely.

Polina, ever eager to not do work, backed up Hermione who looked slightly downcast. "Guys, neither she nor I suggest we go out and _fight_ the baddy. I think Hermione is trying to say, even though she said nothing of the sort, was we should set up a watch, tell students we've heard rumors of bad things happening in the forest, and to keep an eye out for anything suspicious entering or leaving the forest so dangerous it's labeled 'Forbidden'."

Hemione raised a finger, " _Actually_ , it's only forbidden because it's easy to get lost in the forest and stumble into a nest of Cornish Pixies, or various other things. The only thing truly dangerous in the forest is an Accormantula colony, which the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures has kept at bay by placing wards around to keep away all visitors. Unless that ward breaks, the forest is at best a nuisance and at worst a hazard."

"Thank you, Miss Exposition. Useful information that was." Polina sighed. "Look, everyone, all we need to do is set up a watch around the forest and ask the older students to keep an eye out. They may not believe firsties like us, but that's an angle we can _use_ , and us frail little girls can ask the big strong older years to set up some wards to detect anything exciting because we are scared, and you boys can go to the older _girl_ students and tell them you went into the forest for a bit and saw something that scared you, and ask them if _they_ can set up some wards as well. Between the four of us, we can cover a lot of students and a _lot_ of ground."

Silence ensued.

"What?" Polina frowned.

Draco reached out to Harry. "Harry, hold me, I'm scared."

"Hermione, hold me while I hold Draco. I'm scared." Harry reached out to Hermione.

"Draco, you are on your own." Hemione said as she dragged Harry closer to her.

Polina sighed. "Prats, the lot of you."

Hermione, still squeezing Harry, looked to Polina. "That does sound like a good idea, but I don't think that is enough if I'm being honest. I can't think of what else we could do, but the fact that there is a thing out there that wouldn't hesitate to hurt us or…worse…it _does_ scare me too, you know." The last part was said in a whisper, quite low. "I want to do more so I don't have to be scared anymore."

Polina looked thoughtful. "Well, I don't have any more ideas, but…well we could go and see Professor Zaine again. Being a counselor is literally his _job_ , and I think we need some counseling. Or, at least, some advice on what to do…"

Fortunately for our heroes, Professor Zaine's office was open. Unfortunately, when they opened the door, a breeze seemed to follow them in that scattered a few papers on his desk. As he was writing on them.

"Fan- _freakin_ -tastic," the blond-haired Professor exclaimed as he looked up at the lot who entered his domain, his body not moving from its mid-writing pose and the one eye stuck between acting casual and showing his growing annoyance. "All four of you. _Again_. What is it this time, hm? Orcs? Dragons? _Reapers?_?"

"Your glibness does you no credit, _Uncle Sir Professor_." Polina sassed, arms crossed. Zaine responded by sticking his tongue out at her childishly.

Harry took the lead, "Actually, sir, we were looking for some actual counseling this time."

Professor Zaine looked over at Harry with his tongue still stuck out, thought about what the young man said for a second, and then kindly took on a more professional demeanor. "Then by all means."

Hermione took a deep breath. "I - I mean we, are very afraid, sir. There's a lot going on, and we don't really know how to handle it. We've tried distracting ourselves but-"

Professor Zaine interrupted her, "But there is a problem, and as far as you can see, nothing is being done to solve it."

Hermione nodded.

"Well, there isn't really an easy solution. This is a serious problem, and things _are_ being done to solve it. Of _that_ , you can be sure. It isn't a swift solution, nor one that bears any obvious results, but we are working on it. Have been since you told Professor Dumbledore and he told those of us he holds in confidence. So, unless we decide to bring in you four, you won't see anything done with your own two eyes. What I can _suggest_ , however, is something safe that will help you get over your fears."

Professor Zaine walked over to his bookshelf and picked a book without even looking at it, throwing the rather large yellow and black volume at his niece, who deftly caught it. When Polina looked at the cover, she sagged slightly, releasing a lot of tension no one noticed she had. " _The Idiot's Guide to Surviving Adventures Involving Unexplainable Phenomenon_. Thank you, Uncle. This will very much come in handy."

The blond professor chuckled, leaning against the bookshelf in a relaxed manner. "That's an _object_ , dearest niece, not something that will help the four of you mentally. No, what I suggest you all do is something I suggest to all the students who come to me with their fears. Face them. Don't magic your way out of danger, face it head-on. Something in the forest scared you half to death? Walk up to the forest and _defy_ that feeling by challenging it to a children's card game or a duel of the fates!"

Realizing he was getting ahead of himself, Zaine cleared his throat again and sat down on his desk, not minding the papers now. "…Ya know what? I would like the four of you to walk to the edge of the forest, well in view of the castle, and take turns reading that book."

Harry was not certain. "But, what if that thing is in the forest and decides to attack us? We know about the…the _thing_."

Professor Zaine smirked, tapping the side of his head. "Ah, but you forget two very important details! Whatever you kids found, doesn't _know_ that you know about the thing. I'd wager it doesn't even know you have realized its very existence. Secondly, well there is a danger to the students in the forest. The Headmaster isn't likely to let it go unchecked and has likely asked someone to patrol the forest. Hagrid, without a doubt. So, even if the bad thing is _in_ the forest at the time, Hagrid will take care of it."

Harry still wasn't convinced. But when he looked around, his three friends still not entirely convinced, he decided to step up. "Okay, we'll try. But we'll only go a little ways away from the castle towards the forest. We…we could go further on a later day, but we are doing this at our own pace."

The young boy must have said something right because it seemed the others seemed to agree with him.

Professor Zaine grinned. "Good, lad! And…uh…A favor if you can…"

"Yessir?" Harry asked tentatively, wondering what the enigmatic professor could want.

Professor Zaine grin turned predatory. "Make sure Polina doesn't drag you all into a premature encounter with danger, she can be a bit much."

"Uncle!" Polina whined.

Harry smiled. "Of course, sir!"

"Prat!"

"Language!" Zaine exclaimed.

The four children ran out laughing. Now alone, Zaine let alone a soft sigh. "Those kids…if I didn't have to deal with overly hormonal teenagers every day, I'd say I felt bad for them. Almost." He scoffed. "As it is, shit is gonna hit the fan real soon..."

Harry had decided to set up their reading session as close to the forest as Draco was comfortable with. Hermione wanted to sit at exactly the halfway point, but Polina wanted to sit right at the edge. Draco wanted a reasonable distance between these two points, leaning more towards the forest. Polina pestered Hermione about being so far away until Hermione finally revealed that the only reason she wanted to sit so far away was so that they all had plenty of time to provide covering fire on their desperate run back to the castle, but Draco's preferred distance was good enough, she supposed.

Polina, as usual for her, was the first to plop down on the grass and open the book, speed reading the prologue to find anything of note.

Harry was the next to sit down, then Hermione. Draco sighed dramatically, and flopped on the ground, willing the Earth Mother to take him far, far away from all his troubles. Or, better yet, _eat the troubles_.

Polina, having found nothing of note in the prologue, passed it to Draco, who started reading laying down. "Number one: Don't Panic. Under no circumstances should you let your mind get clouded with fear. Doubt? Certainly. But _never_ fear. Things will _always_ go wrong, so when they inevitably _do_ you should be prepared to deal with it." He sat up and then passed the book to Harry.

"Number two: Tactical retreating is not losing, nor is it cowardly," Harry read. "Retreating away means you recognize the threat is greater than you can handle and will need time to better equip yourselves. A swift escape lets you prepare for that threat in the future. As long as you try again, you haven't _truly_ 'ran from a fight,' merely delayed it." He passed it to Hermione, frowning in consideration.

"Number three: Keep your friends close, your enemies closer, and your best friends at your side always. An enemy is someone to keep an eye on, but never to provoke into action, as they must always _react_ to _your_ initiative. A friend will have your back, especially when things get rough. Your best friends will walk right into Hades at your side." She passed it back to Polina, furrowing her eyebrows together.

Polina moved to lay on her stomach while reading. "Number four: Research before, during, and after. Whatever threat you face, I can guarantee you is not unique. Someone somewhere fought something like the thing you face, and they won so hard they wrote a book about it. And when it comes time to face the thing, take mental notes to review later to learn how you could deal with it better in the future. And after the adventure is over? Find _more_ material to research because, at heart, every adventure is identical. The only variable is the threat. No matter what, there is _always_ a solution. If you can't find one, that makes you the expert, so try and do a better job to prepare for the future. Plus, more research means if this same thing happens again, you _will_ be the expert who can write a book about it later. Like this one." She bit her lip and passed it to Draco.

"Number five: Always have a defensive weapon with you. Rune, potion, prank item, _whatever_ you can use. As I've said, things _will_ go wrong, so prepare for everything you can possibly think of. Better to overthink about ways to sabotage yourself. You know yourself better than your enemy does so you can defend against things they couldn't even imagine." Draco palmed his wand in thought and passed the book to Harry.

"Number six: _Don't split the fucking party, you idiot._ " Harry blinked, then blushed at saying a bad word in front of his friends, the serious and pensive mood broken fast enough that light was embarrassed for moving slowly. Harry coughed. "You think I'm joking, but I can't tell you how many amateurs thought they could 'go it alone' or some such rot. They all died. Horribly. Don't be that guy. Any problem can be solved with the power of friendship." Hermione giggled. "I'm still not joking, this is magic we are talking about, and when you have friends with you, you gain confidence, and confidence has a proven effect on making spells stronger by a rather significant margin."

"GIT BACK 'ERE FOUL CREATURE!" sounded a voice from the forest.

The eyes of the children widened, and at once turned to the forest, the book plopping onto the ground in afterthought. Their faces paled. At the edge of the forest was a dark cloaked figure, silver liquid dripping from where its face would be. Harry shuddered, and his scar _burned_ as he looked directly at it. There was nothing to learn about the thing; whatever it was it was _wrong_. Then it turned to look at them, and Harry almost fainted from the pain.

Seeing the kids somewhat block its path, the creature stopped and hissed at them loudly before disappearing in a swirl of black mist.

Then, Hagrid burst through the tree-line. "I'LL GIT YOU FER THIS!" He yelled at the smoke, to little effect, then ran back into the forest.

Silence followed.

"Bollocks does not seem to be appropriate," Polina said, face completely devoid of emotion. "Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuckity fuckity, fuck fuck fuck." She turned towards Harry. "Harry, tell me this. What creature is likely to live in a magical forest near pure-hearted children with silver blood?"

Harry stilled, then nodded to show he understood. "Fuck."

Polina started to tear up, despite her stone-dead voice. "Indeed. There is something so dark it feels completely comfortable drinking the blood of a _unicorn_. That, and at the very least, is willing to _put up with the curse_."

"Fuck," Harry added.

Hermione whimpered. "W…what curse?"

Polina turned towards her. "If I were in the mood of flowery prose, I'd say that though the blood of a unicorn can stave off death even if you are seconds away, you'd only live a half-life. But I'm a pragmatic girl, at heart. If someone were to slay a unicorn and drink their blood…"

"Fuck." Harry helpfully added.

"Yes, Harry." Polina nodded, tears dripping down her face. "Anyone who drinks the blood of a unicorn is cursed to seek the blood, the _death_ of the pure to sustain the curse itself. The curse itself is used as a catalyst to grant dark powers to _aid_ the one that's cursed."

"Fuuuuck." Harry breathed out, shaking his head.

"You're right, Harry." Polina took a breath centering herself. "We…we have an advantage over it though. It wouldn't be a 'curse' if all it did was make it want to kill. The curse gives a weakness in the form of light."

Draco, who was nearly rendered catatonic, gained a gleam in his eye.

Polina continued to speak. "By which I mean any spell that uses positive emotions as an amplifier, if not a focus, does more harm upon it than usual. That, while good to know, isn't something _we_ can use."

Draco decided to interject. "But there is another weakness we _can_ use. Any magical weakness for _any_ dark creature. Wolfsbane, enchanted silver, these _are_ things we can use!"

Hermione gasped. "Do you think…?"

"Fuck!" Harry shook his head.

"Harry's right," Polina said. "We can't _fight_ the thing. But we can defend against it. We can even defend the _castle_ if we do this right…I just…I'm not sure _how_." She swore to herself she'd look through all her books…even ask her more distant Uncles for advice by owl.

Harry shook his head and regained his composure by taking a deep breath. Everyone twitched, waiting for the swear that was sure to come. "Okay, first off we need to cancel the plans for telling the older students." Everyone was both disappointed and pleasantly surprised. "Second, we need to talk to our guardians and get them to hound the ministry to investigate the death of the unicorn Hagrid just found. Murder of a unicorn is still _very much_ illegal. If they ask how we know, tell them that we saw Hagrid running around chasing someone yelling. It's true, and no one can say otherwise. Third, and I can't believe I'm saying this, _we need to get the stone immediately_. For all the confidence I have in Headmaster Dumbledore and the school, we need to hide it somewhere else. Somewhere even _it_ can't find it."

Harry paused to take a few more breaths.

"Lastly…lastly the book your Uncle gave us did have some very good advice. Draco, since it was your idea, you get whatever you can to defend against the thing. Polina, you know the most out of all of us and are a very connected individual, I need you to head to the library. I'd ask Hermione to do it, but you would know _exactly_ what to look for. Hermione, you need to spread the word to the other students. Tell them about the person who _slew a unicorn and drank its blood._ Tell them about the curse. Tell them how to defend against it. When they don't believe you, tell them that not only can we back you up, but we can and will swear an oath and provide a memory. We can get this school prepared, save as many lives as we can, and then get the hell out of the path of danger and let the professionals handle it."

Hermione, Draco, and Polina nodded. They could do that.

 **[A/N]** : AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH Fucking hell another close call, the chapter finished Thursday, and due to life circumstances, the editor could not do this one before I had to post Friday. Hope you enjoyed this, and any criticism is welcome.

 **[Editor Note]** : AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH Here I am! Just updated the chapter DAY OF. Sorry, just had to jump in on the AHH bandwagon myself. Even I don't know what is going to happen, so even your friendly neighborhood editor is ready to see how things pan out!

 **[A/N]** : Okay, so, I also updated the previous chapter with the edits. Reviews are still, very much welcome.


	16. Chapter 16

Harry Potter and First The Rejection of Canon

Chapter Sixteen:

Trial Before the Storm

Hermione Granger was a content girl. She worked hard, harder than ever before, to tell the entirety of the student body about their encounter in the forest. She started with the seventh-years, giving each of them a hand-written (but magically copied) report on _exactly_ what the four of them saw, their suspicions, and their overall plan. Many were still skeptical that there was a threat, so she told them that all four of them were willing to swear an oath _and_ show their memories in a Pensieve. That helped. Her final argument won them all over though. 'Better we are prepared and wrong, then unprepared and _right_.' Once she got all the upper years, she worked her way down, with a few volunteers in each year, only one year above for every year she spoke to. Too young and she had to waste time convincing them, too old and the students she talked to were too scared of the older student to listen (fearing a prank). Eventually, she succeeded, and with so many students writing home, she even helped Harry out, though unintentionally.

Harry Potter was a content boy. His off-the-cuff plan worked wonderfully: he spoke to his family, and with the testimony of all the students, the grounds-keeper, and several 'concerned anonymous persons,' a detachment of Aurors entered the forest with Hagrid at the helm. And once they _found_ the dead and harvested unicorn (concrete proof indeed), practically _all_ the Aurors were swarming the forest with the Head of the DLME herself at the helm! She also decided that until the Dark Wizard was found, a small auror force would be stationed in the school itself to protect the students. Nym, his ever delightfully demented cousin, was among those in the school! They didn't talk much, seeing as she was on the job, but they exchanged a few pleasantries and small smiles throughout the day.

Draco Malfoy was, oddly enough, having a lot of fun. Sure, it was a bit scary to think about what they were defending themselves _from_ , but once he got past that…well, it was almost literally a blast! He talked to the school's number one (and only) prankster duo about setting up 'pranks' around the school targeting _specifically_ cursed wizards. Plus, and he was particularly proud of this, financed a lot of harmless pranks for the rest of the student body to ease off some of the tension. It showed itself off when several Gryffindor students found themselves with matching neon pink hairstyles, and several second-years started belching fire to the amusement of the first years!

Polina Cura was not happy. Not. At. All. Research was boring. She found a lot of things that could help them, true, but more than that…it was just so _boring beyond mere mortal first-year wizarding words_. Did I mention she found it utterly boring? Everyone else got to do stuff that had clear and concrete benefits, but her? Nope. If there was one, _single_ bright side to all this than it was that when the time came, she utterly _killed_ the tests. She was sure that she was the only person in the school to ever score an Exceeding Expectations on _all_ her courses. Maybe not _ever_ but certainly in her _year_. Hermione would have, but she was mondo busy.

Currently, the raven-haired girl was suffering in silence reading about so-and-such who did this-and-that when she stopped. The book she was reading fell to the floor, and she _ran_ as fast as her little legs could run. She spotted Draco and grabbed him. "RUN!" She yelled and took off again.

Draco frowned and ran after her. She looked scared, that much was true, but it also didn't look like she was running _away_ from something. He watched as she saw Hermione and repeated her actions. Hermione frowned and ran after her, with Draco hot on their heels. He wasn't an adept runner, but he was good enough to follow them at a clipped pace.

Soon enough, Polina had grabbed Harry, and they were all chasing after Polina. She stopped in front of an open door. "Do you know what this means?" She whispered, terrified.

Harry looked around him, confused at first. Then with slowly realized terror. "This…this is the third-floor corridor, and that's the _Pain of Death Door with Fluffy_ behind it…How did we forget where Mr. Cuddles was? That Mr. Cuddles was **guarding a treasure**?!"

Draco's eyes widened. "My dad told me about a spell like this once, Fidel-something. It hides all knowledge of whatever it's cast on, making it so no one who doesn't know can never find out. The knowledge doesn't stick unless someone 'tells you the secret' and that lets you remember."

"Wait!" Hermione gasped. "No one told us the secret that lets us know, so…that means someone _broke_ the spell!"

Polina nodded. "That means the Dark Wizard is in there. He, she, it, whatever is close to the Stone." She turned to Harry. "You're the leader here, I'm a little out of my league. What should we do."

Harry took a deep breath. "I'd like someone to stay behind and go get a teacher, or an auror, or bloody _both_. But… 'Don't split the party.' We all need to go in after them. Other students saw us running this way, and if they are smart, they'll put it together where we went. And once a teacher finds out we went in here, they'll know something is up, and go tell the Headmaster. He'll bring the Aurors with him. At the very least, we can delay the wizard long enough for help to arrive. Or, in the more likely scenario where we are horribly outmatched, we can try and clear the path for the qualified professionals to follow us."

Hermione, Draco, and Polina nodded, stepping behind Harry. Polina piped up from his left. "After you, fearless leader."

"We're right behind you," Draco said from Polina's left.

"I'm going to burn that son-of-a-bitch." Hermione threatened from Harry's right.

Harry nodded. "Onwards then, to glory or a valiant death!" He raised his wand high and charged headfirst through the door.

"Hopefully not!" Came the rallying cry as the rest followed behind.

They all crashed into Harry, who had stopped five feet from the door. "What gives?!" Shouted Polina from atop the pile of children. How she ended up at the top, no one can say for certain.

Harry pushed them all off him and started whispering. "Shh! Mr. Cuddles is sleeping. And while I'm happy that he isn't dead, we need to wake him up so when the adults get here, he doesn't immediately start biting."

Draco groaned. "I'll sit this part out guys; I leave it in your capable hands while I recover."

"Honestly…" Hermione sighed, and stood up, none the worse for wear.

Harry was too busy looking around the room for anything that might wake Mr. Cuddles up. But that darn harp was bloody annoying. Wait…the harp! "Polina, can you smash the harp? I can't think about waking Mr. Cuddles up with that annoying thing playing."

"On it, Chief!" She saluted and proceeded to attack the harp with a pair of scissors she transfigured.

The annoying thing dealt with, he crossed his arms and began to think…nothing was coming to mind besides yelling in his ear or kicking him…but that's very rude and not at all a good way to wake up a three-headed dog. His musings were interrupted when a tongue the size of an eleven-year-old boy licked him. He spun around to see Mr. Cuddles very much awake! He beamed at the doggo. "Hello boy!"

Mr. Cuddles Center barked.

Mr. Cuddles Left appeared to sigh.

Mr. Cuddles Right nipped at Mr. Cuddles Center.

Harry nodded. "Yes, it's good to see you as well. Listen closely, though." All of Mr. Cuddles snapped their heads towards Harry. "The Dark Wizard already passed through, and we're going in after him. When the adults come, don't attack them."

Mr. Cuddles Left barked.

Polina nodded. "Yeah, if we run screaming from here with an adult chasing us, you can eat him."

Mr. Cuddles Right barked.

Hermione sighed. She can't speak dog but tried anyway. "We'll be careful, but we should go. Like, _now_."

Harry nodded. "Right, here we go guys. This was likely the easiest we'd have to do." He pulled up the trapdoor. "Come on, we have a lot of ground to cover if we want to catch up." And he jumped down, wand pointed at his feet. "Wingardium Leviosa!" He shouted, hoping that would slow his fall at least. He succeeded, to all of their surprises. Who knew the spell could work like that?

It was an odd surprise the next level down though. There seemed to be a large, organic floor with no obvious way through. The four were still floating down, the light appearing to wither away. Harry squinted. It was _very_ hard to see, especially for someone with already poor eyesight. He turned towards Hermione. "Er, Hermione?" He called out.

"Yeah, Harry?" came the reply from the dark.

"D'you think you can supply us with a bit of light? I can't see a thing." Harry's hand was now a vague black shape.

"We need to touch down first; I can't do simultaneous spellwork." Said the void.

Harry sighed and continued his float down. Soon, he felt his feet hit the organic mass he saw from above. "You guys alright?"

"Hold on," said a shapeless thing. "Incendio!" Hermione's wand lit with a flame, and the floor shrieked and fell out from under them. They all hit the stone floor. "Bugger that smarts!"

Polina was groaning, having fallen back first on her Draco. The boy was also groaning. He fell face first. Thankfully, after a quick check, no one had any injuries.

Draco, who had since recovered from his introduction with the floor, asked the hundred galleon question. "So. What the bloody hell was that thing?"

Polina sighed. "I know…it's a Devils Snare. It only grows in dark, damp conditions. It's basically a plant version of quicksand. The more you struggle, the more it suffocates you."

"Look!" Harry pointed. "The hole is fixing itself…is it supposed to do that?"

"No," Hermione raised her hand and pointed at the wall. "Look there; it's an irrigation system. It's probably feeding formula to it to grow fast and support itself."

"As interesting as this is…" Draco said. "We can't really do anything to a plant that fixes itself. We should just move on."

Harry shook his head. "Right, sorry, I got distracted." He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's go…"

Walking into the next room, the light went out. All light went out. Harry thought the _last_ room was dark, but it had nothing on this room; there was absolutely no light to be seen whatsoever!

"Incendio!" Shouted a voice Harry assumed to be Hermione, to no effect whatsoever. "Drat! So this room removes all light…Polina? Any ideas?"

The voice was met with silence. Harry responded. "Hermione? It's Harry. I think Polina is thinking. Or…scared of the dark maybe?"

"Scared?" A voice from the void spoke. "Me? No. No, I'm just thinking. People have to pass these 'tests' in the rooms to get to the _next_ room… The Cerberus needed a lullaby; the Devils Snare needed a flame…Hagrid was probably the Cerberus, Mrs. Sprout was probably the Devils Snare…I don't think this room is History or Defense or Transfigurations or Potions _or_ Charms so…it's probably a class we don't have yet."

"Astrology!" shouted a male voice that Harry could say for certain was not his own.

"So," Harry said to the void. "Any ideas?"

"I…think I have one." Spoke a female voice, likely Hermione. "Astrology is meant to study the stars, planets, and more importantly, to find one's way in the dark...or it used to be for _Muggles_ so…"

"Gotcha," said a second female voice, likely Polina. "Flagrate!" A small light shone from the dark lighting up Polina's face. "We all cast Flagrate and walk around the room. One of us is _bound_ to find the way out eventually."

Three voices called out 'Flagrate,' and four lines of light made their way around the room. Draco and his line of light disappeared five minutes later. A small mote of light framing Draco's face came back shortly. "Guys, this way!" He shouted. All three lines of light followed the pinprick of hope.

They had to spend the next minute or so readjusting to the normal light levels in the next room. Inside the room was a small table with a tablet covered in strange glyphs, three doors, and _nothing_ else.

"Well," Harry said. "Bugger."

Polina sighed. "Yeah, I agree. We probably aren't taking the class that this room is designed for. Lemme check the tablet." She walked over to the table and sighed. "I recognize these as runes, but I couldn't tell you what it says…It's probably some grand riddle; these are Hogwarts Professors we are talking about."

Hermione frowned. "Let me see." She walked over to the tablet as well. "Mhm..yes…I see…"

Draco excitedly walked up behind her. "What is it? What does it say?" He asked quickly.

"I have no idea." She said. "But I can tell you this much. This is probably English translated directly to the Runic Alphabet. I can see commas and apostrophes."

Harry finally joined the group and looked at the tablet. It read:

 _ᛁ_ _ᛞᛟᚾ_ _'_ _ᛏ_ _ᚲᚾᛟᚹ_ _ᚹᚺᛃ_ _h_ _ᛖᚨᛞᛗᚨᛋᛏᛖᚱ_ _d_ _ᚢᛗᛒᛚᛖᛞᛟᚱᛖ_ _ᚹᚨᚾᛏᛋ_ _ᛗᛖ_ _ᛏᛟ_ _ᛞᛟ_ _ᛏᚺᛁᛋ_ _,_ _ᛒᚢᛏ_ _ᚹᚺᚨᛏᛖᚹᛖᚱ_ _,_ _ᛁ_ _'_ _ᛗ_ _ᚷᛖᛏᛏᛁᚾᚷ_ _ᛈᚨᛁᛞ_ _ᛟᚹᛖᚱᛏᛁᛗᛖ_ _ᚠᛟᚱ_ _ᛏᚺᛁᛋ_ _. H_ _ᛖᛃ_ _, a_ _ᚢᚱᛟᚱᚨ_ _! s_ _ᚺᛟᛏᛋ_ _ᚨᚱᛖ_ _ᛟᚾ_ _ᛗᛖ_ _ᚾᛖᚲᛋ_ _ᛏ_ _ᚹᛖᛖᚲ_ _! w_ _ᛟᛟ_ _! a_ _ᚾᛃᚹᚨᛃ_ _,_ _ᛏᚨᚲᛖ_ _ᛏᚺᛖ_ _ᛞᛟᛟᚱ_ _ᛟᚾ_ _ᛏᚺᛖ_ _ᚱᛁᚷᚺᛏ_ _. T_ _ᚺᛖ_ _ᛟᛏᚺᛖᚱ_ _ᛏᚹᛟ_ _ᛚᛖᚨᛞ_ _ᛏᛟ_ _ᚨ_ _ᚹᛁᛟᛚᛖᚾᛏ_ _ᚨᚾᛞ_ _ᛈᚨᛁᚾᚠᚢᛚ_ _ᛞᛖᚨᛏᚺ_ _ᚨᛏ_ _ᛏᚺᛖ_ _ᚺᚨᚾᛞᛋ_ _ᛟᚠ_ _ᛃᛟᚢᚱᛋ_ _ᚠᚢᚲᚲᛁᚾᚷ_ _ᛏᚱᚢᛚᛃ_ _. D_ _ᛁᛞ_ _ᛁ_ _ᛗᛖᚾᛏᛁᛟᚾ_ _ᛁ_ _'_ _ᛗ_ _ᚷᛖᛏᛏᛁᚾᚷ_ _ᛈᚨᛁᛞ_ _ᛟᚹᛖᚱᛏᛁᛗᛖ_ _ᚠᛟᚱ_ _ᛏᚺᛁᛋ_ _?_ _ᛁ_ _ᚨᛗ_ _. S_ _ᛟᛟᛟᛟ_ _ᛗᚢᚲᚺ_ _ᛟᚹᛖᚱᛏᛁᛗᛖ_ _._

"Yeah. It's probably something we couldn't solve even if we tried." Harry sighed. "Looks like we'll have to do this the old fashioned way."

Draco looked confused. "Old-fashioned way?"

Harry nodded and started walking over to the door on the right.

"Wait!" Polina shouted. "How do you know that's the right door?"

Harry sighed and pointed down. "I'm following the mysterious footprints left by the plant matter."

The group looked down and saw that, yes. There was a lot of green left on the floor. Hermione pouted. She thought Harry had some mystical abilities for a second there…oh well. The group followed Harry into the next room.

The four of them were honestly getting a little worried. Four rooms and they were breezing through them. They were getting a little discouraged, to be honest. Hopefully, the next room was something that could slow down the Dark Wizard.

Alas, t'was not to be. In the next room, they found the bits of a broken arcade game.

Harry facepalmed. "Muggle Studies, _definitely_. The Dark Wizard probably blew it up first chance he got."

Draco bent down and picked up a piece of metal. "Mortal Kombat? Combat is supposed to have a 'c' there, why is it misspelled? I know wizards like to say that Muggles can't spell, but this is silly."

Polina giggled. "It's a design choice, silly. Everyone _knows_ it's spelled with a 'c,' so it stands out among the crowd, it draws attention to it."

Draco dropped the now-worthless piece of metal. "I guess. It's probably not going to catch on though."

Hermione nodded. "It sounds like a fighting game. Who would want to spend money to play pretend and fight some kid at the arcade."

"Me," Harry said. "As well as all the boys, everywhere, forever."

Draco nodded. "Now that you say it like that, I wish I could have played it."

Polina shrugged. "We'll make a day of it over the summer. Uncle Zaine probably has a few copies laying around. Come one now, the next room awaits!"

Unseen, a shadow flickered from the ruins of the broken machine. Unheard, the speakers let out a grating, repeating sound….

The four students walked into the next room, only to stop and stare at the three giant statues and the door to the next room laying behind them. One of them was a bearded man riding a dragon, one was a goblin, and one was a man carrying a sword. Harry looked around for anything that might give them a clue as to what to do, only to not find anything. With a shrug, he began walking towards the door.

Unfortunately, he was forced to stop as the statues came to life and blocked his way. Harry turned around with a raised eyebrow. "Anyone? I do _not_ recognize any of these guys."

Hermione's hand shot into the air.

With a sigh, Harry addressed her. "You don't need to raise your hand, Hermione. This is still a do-or-die situation."

Sheepishly, her hand lowered. "The one with the sword is Egbert the Egregious, the goblin looking one is…Elfric the Eager? Probably…and the last one is...is…erm…Uric the Oddball?"

"Nope!" Polina exclaimed with her arms crossed. "That one is Emeric the Evil!"

Hermione frowned. "Drat!"

Draco sighed. "Alright. We know who they are. What do we _do_?"

Harry blinked…he had an idea. "Guys, I've got an idea." With a determined gait, he walked up to the statue of Egbert. "Bertie!" The statue lost all tension in its body as if resigned. "Go smack Emeric the Evil around!"

Emeric the Evil appeared to chuckle. He gets his full name and title, while his defeater just gets 'Bertie.'

Harry walked over to the last statue. "Please stab them both in the back while they are in a pitched battle for supremacy." He said with a polite smile that had Draco, Hermione, and Polina reeling.

Elfric looked very Eager indeed, while the other two were less enthused.

Harry would have liked to say he was paying attention to the fantastic battle of animated statues happening at his prompting, but the truth of the matter was he was patiently waiting by the door while his friends looked on in awe. He honestly felt like something like this wasn't a big deal to their final fight of the Dark Wizard at the end of the tunnel.

Shortly, there was a pile of rubble with only one statue left, and the door was still locked.

"Well," Draco began. "Now what?"

"Chillax, I got this," Polina said as she walked over to the sword dropped by Egbert, picked it up, and repeatedly hit the last statue until it was also a pile of rubble.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked the rabid girl.

Polina stood up and glared at Harry. "I am a delicate girl with delicate sensibilities." She said as she raised the sword over her shoulder.

Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced at the pile of rubble.

"They offended my delicate sensibilities." Polina tossed the sword into the pile. "I acted accordingly."

Hermione shrugged and led the charge into the next room.

Keys.

That was the only thing they could think of. Hundreds and hundreds of keys were flitting about the room in intricate yet random patterns, acting much like birds in flight.

"Well." Harry started. "At least this one is straightforward? Find the right key and move on?" His words were sure, but his tone was not.

Polina snorted. "Assuming we can _find_ the right. And not die in the process."

"Not die?" Hermione asked with a frown. "These tests have so far been relatively simple, and I've not really seen a threat to our lives."

"You do not see it because we've bypassed it entirely," Draco said, surprising them all. "The Cerberus would've _eaten_ anyone who tried to fight it. The Devils Snare would have _killed_ anyone who is _used_ to fighting long and pitched battles of supremacy that they wouldn't think something so simple as _fire_ would protect them. But _we've_ seen it in the plant remains. The Dark Wizard didn't think about _bypassing_ it. They _fought_ it. The Astronomy Room would confuse anyone walking in enough that the Headmaster would have enough time to apprehend them. The Runes Room likely had a 'choose the wrong door and die' situation. Do I need to say anything about what would happen if you _lost_ that Mortal Kombat thing? I can't even imagine what would happen there, but the Dark Wizard either smashed the machine to pieces beforehand or was such a powerful entity that it fought off whatever the danger was and _then_ smashed the machine for daring to be a threat. Then the three statues of skilled fighters? Harry paid attention in history class, but Dark Wizards don't _need_ history, so they probably had to fight. This room? We can't out think _this_. The _second_ we try and solve this thing, those hundreds of keys are going to attack, you mark my words. Those keys are sharp, distracting, and if you aren't a great flier, probably _deadly_ if the other rooms are any indication." Draco stepped forward with a look of determination on his face.

Harry frowned, and looked towards his male friend with a hard look on his face. "You sure?"

"Yeah." Draco nodded. "I'm sure."

"NO!" Polina shouted and ran over to hold on to her future husband. "I won't let you."

Draco merely pats her head. "Of everyone here I am the best flier who is also the most expendable." He took a breath to steady himself. "I haven't been much use here. I know that. We _all_ know that. But this…this I can do."

She sniffled and held Draco tighter. "Why?"

Draco smiled. "Because I _have_ to."

Polina cried quietly, and let Draco go. She ran over to Hermione, who held her and looked away."

Harry walked up to Draco and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You got this."

"Yeah…which one am I looking for," Draco asked, steading his nerves.

Harry glanced at the door. "Silver, most likely. Old as well…probably seems used recently."

Draco's eye widened. "There." He pointed to a key with one wing bent. "Silver, old, bent wing from being caught most likely."

Harry offered up a dry chuckle. " _When_ we get through this, I'm putting the entire weight of The-Boy-Who-Lived and the Potter name behind you becoming a seeker."

Draco reached into his pocket and gave his own, equally dry chuckle. " _If_ I don't make it, throw all of this shit at the bastard. _One_ of these things is bound to kill that bloody wanker." He pulled out an assortment of trinkets, each one glittering.

Harry took them all. "And if these fail, I'll get Hermione to burn the tosser." He put the accumulation of a few days worth of research and development against Dark Tossers into his pocket.

Draco nodded with a half-smile and started walking to the nearest broom, conveniently left on the floor. He took a deep breath to steady himself and picked it up.

Teeth.

It doesn't often appear in the mind when you think about a key, but keys have teeth. It's how they work, and the second Draco touched the broom, he realized why they are called teeth. All the keys went from birds to a swarm of angry wasps, centering around the injured 'queen,' ready to defend. And boy, did they defend.

Harry was in awe. Draco was obviously in pain, and he could _hear_ the teeth tearing at Draco's skin, and he could _see_ the lines of red as his friend flew directly into the heart of the swarm to catch the queen.

Polina and Hermione were both looking away from Draco, unable to bear their friend in such a sight.

With a triumphant grunt and a strained, "Got it!" Draco made a split second decision and jumped off the broom, trusting his friends to catch him and hoping the insects would revert to avians. He was right, and the room stilled as he fell.

Harry, by virtue of being the only one to see what was happening, caught him with "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Draco floated gently to the floor, key in hand. Polina rushed out from Hermione's Hug directly over to the Malfoy and proceeded to help him with his various wounds.

"Anybody know a healing spell?" Draco asked with a strained smile.

Polina shook her head, eyes red and nose runny but no tears. "Nah…that wasn't covered this year."

Harry snorted. "Maybe we should learn it anyway. We've been running around this castle a lot, and I imagine it would save a trip to the nurse."

Draco started to laugh but ended with a cough. "Don't…don't make me laugh, you prat." He handed Harry the key. "Take the bloody thing. I'm…I'm going to rest here if you don't mind. Wait for the adults, who are _ridiculously late at this point_." He said as he turned to glare at the door.

"Should…" Hermione started to ask. "Should someone stay behind with you?" She glanced at Polina who nodded vigorously.

Harry grimaced and looked at Draco, who smirked.

"No," Draco said. "Anyone who stays behind would feel the need to talk to me, and I need a bloody nap."

Polina frowned darkly.

"Besides," the young boy looked up at the keys. "They're not so bad. When not trying to kill you, I mean."

Polina growled. "If you think for _one second-_ "

Harry stepped forward. "I'm getting you that seeker position." He said with a grin.

Draco snorted. "Not next year. I've had enough flying for the next year, at least."

Polina slightly grinned. "Enough to outrun Helicopters?"

"Or a dozen," Draco smiled. "Now go on, get on with saving the day."

Harry nodded and walked up to the door, key in hand. "Have a good nap, lazybones." With a roguish grin, he unlocked the door and stepped through.

Hermione gave Draco a small smile and a polite nod. "Thank you." She said and followed Harry.

Polina stood up. "Don't think this means you get to relax this summer, husbando." She turned and walked smartly towards the door. She then paused as she put on foot out of the room. "I'm glad you're okay." She whispered before rushing out of the door.

The injured Draco snorted. "Prats, all of them. Couldn't even let me get a word in before they left me here." He closed his eyes. He was getting that nap.

Draco got off lucky. What they all noticed first was the smell. Following their noses was a gory sight. There, off to the left of the room was a troll. A very, very dead troll. It was missing some of its belly and had organs spilling out, missing its left arm, and one of its legs was bent at an odd angle.

It was not a sight any child should be subjected to, but they were anyway. Polina it seemed vomited the least, though she did look very green. No one spoke when they all recovered though. This was…Draco was hurt, very much bleeding, but he wasn't _dead_. The children were now facing the reality that they could very well die from this. This was a living, breathing thing. It fought the Dark Wizard, it lost, and now it was dead.

They weren't sure how to handle this. They weren't sure they _could_. Three of their company now stood where once was four, and they were going to need to see mind-healers after this when they…if… _if_ they won the day. Polina pulled out a bottle of water, drank a little and handed it to Harry. Harry drank a little more than Polina, then handed it to Hermione. Hermione drank the rest of the bottle, more than half. She took a deep breath and threw the empty bottle at the dead troll.

It seemed she wasn't quite over being attacked by a troll earlier this year.

Harry took Hermione's hand in his and offered his other to Polina. Polina, however, raised an eyebrow, smirked, then lifted her head high in the air. Harry smiled and tried not to look at the troll. With a deep breath, he started walking, his friends right behind him.

It seemed that the smell was worse the closer they got to the dead troll, but once they passed it, the smell abated. It was almost something they could get used to. Well, maybe not get used to, but tolerate certainly.

They all passed through the door, still without a word between them.

Happily, the next room had no such smell. In fact, it was a brightly lit room with a wizard chess set. A giant one in fact, with three missing pieces. How…terrifying. It seemed like the room knew how many people stepped in and reacted accordingly.

"Should we even try to step towards the door?" Polina asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not a chance. Let's…let's do our level best, alright?"

"Odd," Hermione said.

"What's odd?" Polina asked.

"Odd that we're missing a king, a queen, and a rook…"

Harry snorted. "I'm the king, obviously. You've all elected me as the leader, and I've obliged this far."

"If you say I'm your queen, I'll hit you." Polina crossed her arms. "I'm the unstoppable object hurtling towards enemy lines with wild abandon."

Hermione smiled a bit too sweetly. "That makes me Queen, I suppose."

They took up their positions.

Harry took a deep breath. "I have no idea how to play chess. Let any alone wizard chess."

Polina sighed. "Alright man, I'll take care of this." She took a deep breath. "FORWARD CHARGE!"

Harry blinked as their entire board immediately assaulted the other side of the board and demolished them.

It was over in three minutes.

Harry was stunned. "Can…can you do that?"

Polina smiled. "Yes. Yes, I can." She looked unbearably smug.

Hermione inhaled a little too long. "There are supposed to be rules. You made it, so there aren't any."

Polina rolled her eyes. "It's _wizard_ chess. If you can get away with cheating, then it's a valid play. Who here is going to call me out on a dirty play? My non-existent opponent?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Fair point and we are still in a hurry…"

Hermione walked over to Harry. "Why do you look sad?" she asked him.

Harry pouted. "I wanted a gentleman's game, one where we needed to match our wits against a superior opponent and come out victorious…"

"And instead, "Hermione began. "We got Polina."

"Standing right here, buddies." Polina held up two fingers.

Shrugging off the insult, the two moved on to the next room with Polina close behind.

It was empty.

"This is empty." Harry helpfully supplied.

"No, look" Hermione pointed. "There's the door, and we can just-"

"NOBODY FUCKING MOVE!" Polina shouted into their ears.

"OW," Harry stated. "Why?"

Polina grabbed his face and turned it towards her. "Every room without fail is designed to kill whoever doesn't know how to bypass it. What are the odds this one is 'empty,' hmm?!"

Harry blinked. "You know what, Polina?" He then glared at her. "You're right. But _fuck it_. It's been kind of a long day, and I'm getting a little sick of this bullshit. I'm going to fucking walk through this room, and no one can fucking _stop me_."

Pushing her away, Harry turned and covered his eyes.

"Uh…" Polina said, stupefied. "What?"

Then Harry started walking, and the girls started screaming. The first step Harry took onto the floor released spikes on every inch of the floor. The second step fired darts from the walls. The fourth step dropped a fucking guillotine from the ceiling. Each and every step revealed a trap that would have, and _should have_ killed Harry Potter. None of them even scratched him.

Polina and Hermione were holding each other, still screaming.

Harry Potter, at this point, could not give a fuck. And it was working. Somehow.

Soon enough, Harry Potter ended up walking face first into the door, and all the traps retracted. "Well," Harry said. "That wasn't so bad. What was with all the screaming though?"

Polina and Hermione were still screaming.

"Ah. I see. Yes. That explains so much." Harry deadpanned.

Hermione was screaming while Polina had tapered off.

"No no, do go on. I understand everything."

Hermione took a deep breath. Harry eagerly awaited her response to his sass.

She started screaming, and Harry sighed and turned around.

"Fuck it," Polina said and started dragging Hermione across the floor. Completely confident in her actions, the same 'miracle' that happened to Harry happened to them. It helped that the traps were calibrated for an adult, and the children bypassed all of them completely. Harry meanwhile was waiting in the other room, and they all took a breather while they waited for Hermione to calm down.

The next room made Polina still. Her entire frame froze, and Harry was worried. He had seen Polina at her lowest point, and she was always _animated_ no matter what. This…felt unnatural. Wrong. Polina shouldn't look like the statues around the room.

"Harry." Polina's voice took on a cat-like quality, a purring undertone to her word. "I think this is where I leave you behind." Her face showed no emotion.

Hermione, however, jumped in place. "What? What do you see? Why are you so certain you won't make it past here?! Why are you so sure _we_ would make it past here?!"

"No, Hermione," Polina said, her head tilted to the side. "It isn't that this room is dangerous. It just won't _allow_ me to move on with you."

Harry looked around the room, and at the statues specifically. At one corner was what was an unfinished and slightly broken statue; it was almost entirely featureless, only a sardonic smile was visible as it sat with one leg crossed under the other, leaning over to look like it was studying them. In another corner was…a Skeleton King? It was hard to describe, but it was clearly a skeleton with a crown. Though there was an odd familiarity with the first statue, it was because it was meant to be human, but _this_ statue felt off. The teeth were too sharp and too numerous. There were too many hard lines where there shouldn't be and too many soft lines where there should be hard lines. It was a little hard to look at, and Harry felt like he was being judged. The other statue was a suit of draconic armor looking like it was pulled straight out of a Stephen King novel. And the last statue was…also hard to describe. It was spindly at the same time it was stocky, round as it was square. There were parts of it that looked like it only made sense if you could see _inside_ or _around_ the statue. This one DEFINITELY reminded Harry of the entire definition of insanity. Or….logic? Or both?

All four of them hurt Harry's mind to look at. Like he shouldn't be in the same room as them. But he had to press on. He turned to Polina. "What do we do?" His voice was cracked as if he hadn't spoken in a month.

"You, you walk to the door." Polina smiled. "I stay here."

Polina wasn't even acting like Polina anymore. Harry didn't know what to do; he couldn't move. Hermione decided for him. She grabbed his hand, turned her head down and walked as fast as she could through the door.

Seconds after the door shut, the statues moved. All four of them crowded around Polina. The Skeletal King bent down until his eyes met Polina.

"Dia duit, conas atá do chuid staidéir?" It asked her.

"Du har ikke sett vår kjære niece på om et år, og det første du spør er hvordan hennes karakterer er? For skam, gammel venn." The Formless chided the King.

"Humph!" The King sounded. "Má cheapann tú nach bhfuil súil agam ar an dara huair, ní dhearna tú súil ghéar ort. Thiocfadh le Draco an daor bocht a ghortú. Ansin bheadh orm é a mharú. Go brónach." The King growled.

The Knight slapped the King on the back of the head.

"Ó, ceart." The King said. "Tá brón orm. Maraíodh é. Go brónach."

"あなたはそれが彼が意味するものではないことを知っています、ビクター。ポリーナは大きな女の子です。その少年が誤動作した場合、彼女は彼を自分で殺します。" The Malformed said.

"Πάντοτε. Καλύτερα ας τη φροντίσει ο ίδιος. Το μόνο που πρέπει να κάνουμε είναι να την βοηθήσουμε να θάψει το σώμα, όπως κάνουν οι καλόι θείοι." The Knight said.

"Ahem!" Polina coughed. "Chan eil duine a 'marbhadh mo phòsadh san àm ri teachd. Cha do bhris mi a-steach e fhathast, co-dhiù. Agus is e, tha an neach aig a 'bhuannaich uncail, mo chuid ionnsachaidh a' dol gu math. Tha mi a 'smaoineachadh gun do chuir mi às don t-saoghal mar dhuine àbhaisteach!"

All the statues politely clapped and offered Polina shows of physical affection, ruffling her hair and patting her shoulder.

The Formless picked her up and hugged her. "Flott niese, visste jeg at du kunne gjøre det!"

Polina giggled. "Cuir a-nuas mi, thuinn mòr! O, ceart! Dè tha sinn a 'dol a dhèanamh gus am marbhadh iad an droch dhroch bhuaidh air cùlaibh doras àireamh ge bith dè?" She asked the group.

The King scoffed. "Cén fáth, an rud céanna a dhéanaimid an t-am ar fad, neacht. Breac concas uilíoch."

The Formless sighed. "Bare du gjør det. Vi vil bare ha det bra."

"Cad é an difríocht?" The King tilted his head.

The Malformed laughed. "ええ、いつでも征服があります、殺害があります！"

The Knight chuckled. "Και τα ζώα να συλλέγουν και να τρώνε!"

Polina once again broke down in giggles, still in the statues arms as all the beings in the room devolved in mad laughter.

"We need to be strong Harry!" Hermione sniffled. "For Draco. For Polina!"

Harry sighed. "I'm not disagreeing with you Hermione. I just want my arm back." He was currently wondering how to get past the wall of flame, with the only clue being seven bottles of liquid on the table in front of him.

"If we don't do this, all the other students might be in danger!" Hermione exclaimed.

Harry sighed again. "I know, Hermione. Can I have my arm back?"

"We cannot let the Light be extinguished!" Hermione yelled to the table filled with bottles.

He gave up on his arm. It wasn't an easy decision. It was something that would haunt him for years to come, giving up on his valued comrade. But it had to be done, for the good of the whole.

"That's why you have to drink this potion and walk through the fire to fight the Dark Wizard!" Hermione once again exclaimed as she shoved a bottle in his face.

"Wait. What?" Harry was confused.

Hermione drew herself up. "There was a logic puzzle. I solved it while you were off in your own world."

"I…" Harry was confused. "What?!"

The young girl sighed. Boys. "Drink the potion." She said slowly. "Walk through the fire. Defeat the Dark Wizard."

Harry took a deep breath, ready to unleash a tirade. Then he just sighed. "Alright. Just…just give me the potion."

"Good luck Harry!" Hermione beamed at him, utterly confident that he alone would succeed.

Harry withdrew his arm from Hermione. ' _One thing at a time._ ' He told himself. He gathered up his inner strength and drank the potion that had unknown effects. At the halfway point, he remembered the lecture Polina gave Potions class and hoped he hadn't just killed himself. Oh, he trusted that Hermione solved the logic puzzle. It was just likely that the wizard who _made_ the logic puzzle just plain _lied_. As he finished the potion, he noticed he was still breathing. That was a good sign.

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes and kissed Hermione on the cheek before leaping through the flame, hoping he'd die from them and not embarrassment from _kissing_ a _girl_.

When he opened his eyes, he was inside the last chamber. But the Dark Person was someone he did not expect. Someone no one could have expected. Someone so _diabolical_ that no one could have possibly guessed his true identity.

"I bloody _knew it!"_ Harry stupidly shouted, drawing the attention of the Dark Wizard…

 **[A/N]** : For anyone curious, this is what the rune puzzle says, it's this:

I don't know why Headmaster Dumbledore wants me to do this, but whatever, I'm getting paid overtime for this. Hey, Aurora! Shots are on me next week! Woo! Anyway, take the door on the right. The other two lead to a violent and painful death at the hands of yours fucking truly. Did I mention I'm getting paid overtime for this? I am. Soooo much overtime.

For anyone curious about the scene with Polina…guess! Seriously, guess, I want to hear some fan theories. Because I guarantee you, that you can't possibly guess where this is going, I deliberately set it up to where even if you put it everything through Google Translate (which I did) you wouldn't get anything _concrete_. But I reeeaaaallly want to see someone with a theory about what the hell is going on. You could probably tell where I got kind of fed up with the chapter though. My bad guys. Finally:

Thank you first to icy for the review, I appreciate! And ...no, it isn't a good situation for anyone, as you'll be able to read in chapter 18, we've got a plan!

And thank you to Sunrise Phoenix for all the reviews (and help/early reviews for some of the chapters haha) Valka will be making an appearance next year for sure. Or sooner!

[Editor note]

Geebus...25 pages. Insane. But hey, we are almost at the end! Mwahahaha

Can't wait to show y'all what we got in store for the future of the Rejection saga. Of many things. Many new stories we are rejecting the canon of, I mean.


	17. Chapter 17

Harry Potter and First the Rejection of Canon

Chapter THE LAST ONE

It was Quirrell!

"Ah," He said, immersed in the mirror. "The-Boy-Who-Lived. It was foolish of you to bring him to me, Headmaster. I've been ever so _curious_ to see how he lived through my glorious master's Avada Kedavra. And once I properly study the boy, I'll learn his secrets, and HE shall reign supreme over all the _filth_ infecting this world!" He turned around. "It will be glorious and- where is Dumbledore?" Quirrell was very clearly confused.

So was Harry. That was a good point. "Uh…he's… _hiding_ …under…my invisibility cloak?" Harry tried.

Quirrell sighed. "You know, I was hoping for an epic duel. It seemed appropriate. I battled my way through all the various traps, gaining valuable experience along the way. Dumbledore is old now, and I am not only in my prime, but I have _personal_ tutelage from Lord Voldemort. I have the upper hand, and there is virtually no way I'd lose. That Dumbledore isn't even _here_ at the moment of His triumph is…oddly disappointing."

Harry nodded. "I agree. Like I've been saying this whole time, I am a virtually untrained eleven-year-old up against a certified Dark Wizard. I stand _no_ chance here. My only hope is to continue to distract you until help _finally_ arrives."

"That's sensible." Quirrell agreed and crossed his arms. "Even all the light enchanted objects in your pocket can only hope to distract me once we begin our…," he uncrossed his arms and made air quotes. "Ahem, 'Battle for the Stone'. Still, you can only stall for so long before my amusement runs out. The simpler wards I placed at the entrance tells me that, as of yet, no one else has come. I have the time that you simply do not."

Harry wiped the sweat off his brow. "Right, so can we go back to the 'personal tutelage of Lord Voldemort' part?" He reached into his pocket to grab all of his prank objects in case he had to run. "I was under the impression he was dead."

Quirrell scoffed. "As if my master would let something as simple as the destruction of his corporeal form stop him."

"Well," Harry said. "Fuck."

Quirrell snorted. "Indeed Potter. I must say though, I'm rather impressed." He smiled at Harry. "All of my attempts to end your miserable existence ended in failure. I know you never knew _for sure_ that it was me. Tell me, how _did_ you manage?"

Harry shrugged, thankful for the new topic that let him stall for more time. "A strong support group; Polina outlines the problem concisely, Draco covers magical solutions, and Hermione covers practical solutions. To be honest, though, all of her solutions involve fire."

"That would explain the Quidditch match, and how you got passed the trials."

"Once again, to be fair, you did most of the work. We just had to work _around_ most of them. Although…what was up with the room with the four statues?"

"Three, Potter." Quirrell glared. "There were _three_ statues. That was the simplest to pass, just had to ask the fool ghost the password to skip it, and I got a short break."

Harry tilted his head, confused. "No, the near the end with the skeletal king, the misshapen thing, the suit of nightmarish armor, and the unsculpted statue?"

Quirrell rolled his eyes. "There was no such room, Potter, your attempts at stalling grows past amusing." Quirrell snapped aimed his wand at Harry and muttered a spell, which caused ropes to manifest themselves and tie Harry up completely. "Now be quiet, boy." He said as he turned around to look at the mirror again.

Harry took the opportunity to examine the mirror. Maybe the stone was embedded in the mirror somewhere and Quirrell wasn't looking hard enough? Harry hoped so. He tried looking into the mirror itself to start. Maybe it was some magical thing and the stone only appeared in the reflection or something. Seriously, _anything_ to keep it away from the madman!

He saw nothing. He decided to try at least and distract him while he worked the ropes off of him. "So, I also take it you let the troll in?"

Quirrell made no move to turn around, still examining the mirror. "Yes. I have a certain _gift_ with trolls, as you've well seen."

"Yup. Very dead thing. Really don't want to end up like that."

Quirrell scoffed "You are a wizard of at least good stock, no mere beast. The Dark Lord will grant you what he granted _all_ his enemies, a swift and painless death."

Harry blinked. He honestly never saw it like that before. Dead was dead. _Was_. Seeing the troll hammered in that there were worse ways to die. "All the same, I'd still rather not."

"As if you have a choice."

Harry continued to struggle. "So…when can we expect Snape to show up?"

Quirrell froze and turned to look quizzically at Harry. "And _why_ would he show up?"

"I overheard him and the 'master,' now known to be as Voldemort, talking in the forest."

"Ah," Quirrell smiled and turned back to the mirror. "Snape was never as loyal to the Dark as he seemed; too soft. He needs _persuasion_ now. Though, since he hadn't disabled the final trap, I assume he's made his dedication to the enemy clear."

Harry blinked. Was Snape a double or triple agent? Well, if he was a double agent, best to alleviate tension there. If he wasn't on Dumbledore's side, then at least he'll know later. "Maybe he just got delayed. Or switched it up to be less lethal? Hermione breezed through it pretty quickly, and the potion only allowed one to pass through the flames." The ropes were almost _ridiculously_ tight. It was still a massive struggle to break them.

Quirrell stirred. "Yes…perhaps you are right Potter. Though I wonder why you defend him."

Harry internally smiled. As long as his attention is on him, it isn't on the mirror! Honesty, go for honesty! "Well, if he's a double agent, then he's on my side. If he's not a double agent, then we'll all know eventually, Voldemort especially though. Speaking of, when can we expect _him_?"

Quirrell chuckled. It was a cruel thing. "Oh, Potter, you foolish boy. He is already here. With us. With _me_. I hear him, constantly. I was just a foolish child, exploring the wilds of Romania, surviving off of whatever I can find when I found him. Or rather, _he_ found me. He revealed to me the fundamental truth of the world. 'There is no Good, nor Evil,' he said, 'Only Power and those too weak to seek it.' It was _glorious._ Since then I have done my best to serve. Though he can be a harsh master at times; since my failure at Gringotts, he's kept a closer eye on me. He is so very close now." Quirrell turned around. "I am done speaking with you, boy. Do not address me again." He began muttering under his breath. "Damn Dumbledore, too clever for his own good. Where did he hide the bloody stone?"

" _Quirrell…,"_ A horrible voice emanated from…somewhere on Quirrell. " _I tire of this banter. Grab the boy. Make him find it. Dumbledore would have made allowances to gift the stone to his protégé._ "

While the voice made his skin crawl, it made no sense. Harry was never Dumbledore's protégé; that was only in those fictional Boy-Who-Lived books.

Nevertheless, Quirrell turned around and pointed his wand at him. Harry rose from the floor and floated over to the mirror. "Look into the mirror, Potter." Quirrell dropped him on the floor, and with a wave of his wand, the ropes disappeared. "Tell me what you see."

Harry looked deep into the mirror. Looking for the stone and hoping that – wait, what was that?! The door burst open and in rushed the guards and Aurors, subduing Quirrell and leading Harry off into the passageway. But…he was still standing here, and he hadn't heard the door burst open so…what?

"Well?" Quirrell snapped. "What do you see?"

"Uh…you've been subdued, and I've left the chamber?" Harry was confused.

"But where is the stone?!" Quirrell thundered.

"I don't know!" Harry flinched. "What's even the point of this mirror?!"

Quirrell sighed. "It's the Mirror of Erised. It shows men their hearts desire. When I look into it, I see myself presenting the stone to my master…it's the final defense of Dumbledore's little maze. He _must_ have left you with instructions!"

 _"_ _Let me speak to the boy Quirrell."_ The awful voice said. " _He will speak the truth to me…face-to-face, as it were…_ "

Quirrell looked frightened. "B-but master, I have served faithfully, I have not yet failed!" He all but screamed.

" _DO IT!_ " The voice, Voldemort yelled, it echoed through the chamber.

Quirrell looked very sad at this moment and resigned to his fate, beginning to unwrap the turban around his head. Once finished, he let it fall to the floor.

Then Harry got very frightened indeed. Quirrell reached both hands up, and reached to the opposite sides of his head, and _pulled_. There was a sickening crunch, and Harry suspected Quirrell was no more. A broken neck where the head went all the way around was mostly a permanent death. But…the body did not fall, however, as on the back of Quirrell's head, there was a _face._ It had to be Voldemort. Eyes full of malice, teeth of razor-sharp points, and two slits where a nose _should_ be.

" _See what I've become, Potter. See this wretched form, of no substance save when I possess another soul! The blood of unicorns has sustained me, as Ruler of the Dark! But once I possess the stone…oh yesss…I will be returned to my full glory! And you, I shall be merciful. Give me the stone, and you may yet live…"_ he reached out his hand.

Harry stepped back, and Voldemort followed. "I…" Harry tried wracking his brain for information. Ideas. _Anything_. He heard a clinking in his pocket and had an idea. "Never!" He reached in and threw all of his tools at Voldemort.

The vials did the most damage, as they shattered and spread their Light-based payload all over Voldemort, the glass shards digging in. Not enough to kill, or even grievously harm, but enough to distract him while Harry booked it behind a pillar.

Voldemort grabbed Quirrell's wand and began casting spells at himself. " _You'll pay for this Potter! Like your family! They died a coward's death! Your mudblood mother begged for her life, which I denied!_ "

Harry bit his tongue. Voldemort doesn't know where he is, as long as stays out of sight, he's safe.

As if reading Harry's thoughts, Voldemort laughed. " _I can sense magic, boy! I see you plain as day!_ "

Bugger that idea then. Harry ran through all the spells he knew in his head. Not a lot to work with, but it'll be enough. If… "I still don't know where the stone is, but how about a duel?"

Voldemort laughed, sounding much like a snake. " _And why, boy, would I agree to that when I can just kill you and take the stone from your lifeless body?_ "

Harry gathered up his courage. "You said my parents died a coward's death? Why shouldn't I at least try and _not_ go that angle? I might not die, after all…"

" _Interesting._ " Voldemort hissed softly to himself. " _Very well, but this shall not be a formal duel. I shall not bow, and I shall not let you live. I will, however, give you a sporting chance. No spell of mine shall 'directly' harm you. I will prove my superiority over you, and you shall die from only indirect spells!_ " Voldemort laughed and launched spells at the loose stones on the floor. They transformed into suits of armor and advanced towards Harry, with Voldemort following slowly behind, smirking.

Harry rushed out and cast every offensive curse he could. He managed to knock out three out of the eight before one of them got a hit in on him. He bit back a yelp of pain and rushed around in a circle around Voldemort. Once he got a fair bit away, he cast as many spells as he could towards _everyone_. Voldemort shrugged off most of it, though from the occasional stumble and slight downturn of his lips, it had to be doing _something_. Four more suits of armor fell as well, and Voldemort dismissed the last set of armor, before intoning another spell.

The ground cracked around Harry, who dove to the side to avoid whatever it was. It was a decent idea, though not precisely _needed_ from Harry's perspective as all it did was create more loose stones. What came next convinced Harry to run as fast as he could while casting a shield charm. The stones expanded in size and started raining down on Harry. While running, he continued to cast spells at Voldemort, who stayed in place. He looked decidedly less confident, though still very much in control of the battle. Once the last of the rocks fell, and Harry's shield deflected the pebbles that hit it, Harry dodged the last giant boulder as it smashed into the ground.

Harry was panting, but with a deep breath, he recovered as much as he could. It was enough.

Voldemort launched another attack, though launched is a little unfair. He transfigured another suit of armor…then made that giant armor _enormous_. It would probably tower over even Hagrid! It also moved swiftly, and Harry had to dive off to the side and then make a run for it as it immediately chased after him.

But what happened next was certainly a stroke of luck: as Harry was standing in front of a support pillar, it decided to crash down on Voldemort, who had to raise a shield quickly. It made the armor stop in its tracks, which Harry instantly exploited to cast spell after spell, no matter how useless it might have seemed. Soon, the last of the rubble fell off of Voldemort's shield and the armor began its attack again. Harry tried the same tactic again, leading the armor into rushing after him only to slam into the pillar and chase after Harry before the armor landed on it. Harry hoped that he'd get lucky and the pillar would simply crush Voldemort again. He wasn't _quite_ that lucky, but the tactic worked as it had the first time.

" _Smart move boy,_ " Voldemort said while raising his shield. " _But I will not allow it a third time._ "

Harry bit his lip and nearly exhausted himself firing yet more spells at the armor, to seemingly no avail again. He might not live through this. His life flashed before his eyes, all the time with the Tonks', at Hogwarts, at the Dursley's…

Then he got an idea; an awful, wonderful, _terrible_ idea.

He ran right at the Dark Lord, who was not paying attention to him and was focused on the pillar that would crush him. The last of the rubble cleared away from Voldemort and the shield fell as the armor moved again, but the dark lord could not see Harry until it hit him with all the force of an eleven-year-old boy colliding with his body.

That was not a metaphor.

Voldemort fell to the ground and _screamed_. Harry's mere touch burned him with the strength of fiendfire!

Harry did not know this and just started punching. A raging fire grew in the deep recesses of his mind. "You - dortin - nobin - damn - nip - ban - gunk! Stickin - besterd - stickem - fibre - bladda – puss! Cudos - hada - sence - rat - darnin - monki – grug fraknos!"

It is said that people under extreme duress speak in strange tongues.

Harry was completely aware that with every blow, a chunk of Voldemort turned to ash. He did not know _why,_ but right now, he wasn't going to question it. Shortly, all the rage in his tiny body spent, he found himself victorious over a pile of ashes. He stood up, breathless and more exhausted than he has ever felt in his life. He staggered to the door and fell over. The last thing he saw before he faded into unconsciousness was Headmaster Dumbledore bursting into the room, Nym following immediately to rush over and reach out to him.

* * *

The first thing that Harry Potter saw as he woke up was a very odd sight. Albus Dumbledore was smiling. A real, genuine smile. It was very off-putting to the Dumbledore _he_ knew, who was well…mostly grumpy. He looked like an old man, but right now he had a very grandfatherly look to him.

"Good morning Harry." He said softly.

Harry sagged into the bed. "Good morning, sir. Did we win? Is the stone safe? What about Voldemort? What about…" Harry shrunk in on himself. "What about Quirrell?" He said softly.

Dumbledore chuckled and pat Harry on the head. "Don't worry about that, my boy. I'll ask you not to be so excitable though, I'd rather Madam Pomfrey or her new assistant Miss Valka not hex my beard off for putting any of her patients in danger."

Harry quirked his head and looked around. Sure enough, he saw a row of well-made hospital beds. With Draco laying in one of them! He was covered in bandages. Draco turned his head to see Harry. He smiled a soft smile. "Harry…glad you're awake."

A snort left Harry's lips. "You're looking good, Mummy-Man. Comfy too. What, did they have to take the legs?"

"Oh, yes." Draco drawled. "Polina was _thrilled_. Now she can drag me everywhere and have a legitimate excuse."

Harry chuckled. "Excuses wouldn't matter to her. She'll do as she pleases, as she always does."

Dumbledore sighed wistfully. "Ah, I remember being young…so many adventures, so many snacks…" When Draco and Harry turned to look at Dumbledore, they did so with a look of absolute shock! Dumbledore? _Young_?!

Harry shook himself out of his stupor. "Wait, guys, we've gone off topic. What happened? We _did_ win, right?"

Dumbledore sighed. "In a manner of speaking, yes; you did win, and Voldemort is defeated. Alas, the _stone_ is missing. I have no idea where it could possibly be, which is somewhat worrying. And, with the consent of your legal guardians, we've examined your memories, and _we_ know precisely what happened. I am grateful for what you've done, but…I am so very disappointed that you _had_ to do it."

Harry addressed him. "I understand what you mean, sir. We didn't even _want_ to do it, but…well the _plan_ was just to make sure the stone was safe and run as far and as fast as we can." Draco nodded.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "We are aware of that Harry, Draco. As the Supreme Mugwump, I was right alongside Amelia Bones in viewing your memories of the entire ordeal."

"Um, sir," Draco said from his bed. "What did you mean when you said the stone was missing? Did the Dark Wizard get the stone or…?"

The Aged Headmaster shook his head. "No, the final measure was not lethal, it was meant to be a _delaying_ action, until I could get there. And, since there is no point at all in hiding it, allow me to assuage your fears by telling you the protections _I_ placed on the stone. You see, I hid the stone in the mirror with a rather unique enchantment. 'Those who seek to use the stone will not have it. Those who seek the rock will possess it.' Only those who have no plans for the rock can remove it from the mirror, while those who wish to use the stone for _any_ purpose will not. Quirrell sought to use it to bring his master back to glory. To be perfectly honest, the stone _should_ have been given to _you_ Harry."

Draco nodded. It made sense so far.

Harry was confused. "If I should have had the stone, why would it be missing?"

Dumbledore frowned slightly. "The leading theory is that when you threw all of the potions and Light objects at Voldemort, the mixture caused the stone to be destroyed. But no mere potion, no matter, if it was mixed with a hundred

others, could destroy the Philosopher's Stone. But, it is nowhere we can find. Not in the mirror, not in the room, not on your person, and _not_ with Voldemort."

Harry and Draco frowned. Dumbledore chuckled. "Cheer up boys, you've done a great service to this school _and_ to Wizarding Britain! You all, Miss Granger and Cura as well, will be receiving a sizable galleon bounty, along with an Order of Merlin!"

The two boys' eyes gleamed. They were getting treasure after all!

" _And_ ," Dumbledore said. "Look at all these gifts the students have left you! Why you'll be sorting them out for days!"

The two boys' eyes lowered. Dumbledore hid a cackle by disguising it as a cough.

Harry had one more issue to deal with. "Headmaster?" He began. "Voldemort _died_ when I was a baby. I fought him again. He'll be coming back, won't he?"

Dumbledore's face fell. "Unfortunately, I believe so. In fact, I have been researching ways to deal with his form of immortality for _years_." Then, Dumbledore smirked, and the boys felt fear of the old man return, like the time in his office. " _Fortunately_ for us, all the stress has rather hardened me and turned me into a vindictive old man. Now that I know what he's capable of, we'll be more prepared to _deal_ with him. None of my students should have to deal with him again….again." Then, he stood up and began leaving the room. "Now alas, I shall leave you boys to the tender mercies of your female compatriots."

Draco wailed as Polina walked in with a smirk. " _NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_ "

Harry did not see Hermione coming, and suddenly, at this moment, he felt some sympathy for Voldemort. It _hurt_ to have a child barrel into you head first. He was lucky she was merely squeezing him to death instead of punching him. Speaking of. "Oh bugger!"

"LANGUAGE!" Came the return reply of Hermione, Polina, and Madam Pomfrey.

"What?" Said Draco.

Harry took a deep breath. "I forgot to ask him why I was able to turn Voldemort into a pile of ash!"

All the faces in the Hospital Wing lost all emotion. Polina summed up all of their thoughts. "Wut."

So Harry told them everything. Every last detail he could remember. He could hear Madam Pomfrey gasp when he told them about Quirrell breaking his own neck. When he told them about how he _literally_ beat Voldemort into a pile of ash, he got a few approving nods. The most vigorous of all was Hermione 'Burn Them All' Granger.

Draco was just happy the source of their troubles was turned into something a simple scourgify could erase. When the Dark Lord returns, as Dumbledore said, Draco is _never_ going to let him live that down.

Harry yawned and asked a question. "So, what happened to you guys after you were left behind? I know this," Harry jerked his head towards Draco, "prat took a nap, the lazy bum. What about you guys?"

Hermione shrugged. "I sat and waited. I couldn't go further, but I wasn't going to leave either. If Voldemort came back through, then it would have been _me_ that turned him to ash."

Polina giggled. "Guess that makes me the traitor to the group then, cause I went topside to see where the _fuck_ – ow!" Madam Pomfrey hit Polina upside the head. "Fine…where all the adults were when we were taking care of business. And _boy_ do I have a story for you!" She grinned maniacally.

Madam Pomfrey coughed. "You'll have time enough for that later, the boys need to head off to bed now. Visitation is over." She led the two girls out of the room. Harry waved goodbye and settled in for a good night's sleep.

* * *

After a few days in the tender mercies of Madam Pomfrey and the still mysteriously named but never seen by Harry at this point Miss Valka, Harry and Draco were declared well enough to attend the end of the year feast. They were both happy to see Slytherin's colors flying across the halls. The rest of the school wasn't so happy, but bully to them; three Slytherins and a Ravenclaw stopped freaking Voldemort!

As soon as Harry and Draco entered a great quiet fell upon the tables. Two squeals from Slytherin and Ravenclaw broke it, and the room found its noise again. Harry waved to Hermione, and Draco shuffled over to Polina. Harry, realizing he was left behind, hurried after him, to the chuckles of the upper years.

Dumbledore stood up to address the students, looking just as happy as he had when Harry saw him. Several students fainted, and the upper years attempted to 'dispel the illusion.' The Headmaster slightly glared at the students, and the entire hall felt the tension leave their bodies.

"Ahem!" He coughed. "Now that _that_ is done with, let me say that this has been a most…exciting year for many of us. First, I'd like to announce that our new and improved point system has increased the average grades across the _entire_ school!" A few students politely clapped. "Secondly, I know that the break is coming up; however I urge you all to pursue independent studies, even if it's just muggle fiction to give you ideas about what _could_ be." All of the students groaned. "Hush you lazy little – ow! Minerva I wasn't going to curse!" The Headmaster turned to address Professor McGonagall, who had apparently stomped on his foot, much to the amusement of the school of children. "Yes yes, very funny. Now, normally, we'd issue Slytherin the House Cup, _however_. There are recent events that must be taken into account."

The Headmaster pulled out a scroll and put his reading glasses on. "First, to Ronald Weasley: For bringing attention to the Dark Wizard's plot to distract the Aurors, Teachers, and _myself_ …I award, one hundred points."

The Gryffindor table erupted into cheers, with several students shouting, "That's our younger brother!" and various other forms of adulation.

The Headmaster waited until the applause died down. "Secondly, to Neville Longbottom, for aiding Ronald Weasley and saving the lives of several of our own first years, I award one hundred points."

The Hufflepuff table followed Gryffindors example and erupted into cheers. Professor Zaine had somehow acquired a bottle of champagne and a blueberry muffin and was celebrating quite vigorously, making out with a…dignified older woman who no one had seen before. Though when Neville was called, and the applause started, Zaine raised the bottle up and gave a quick shout of "HUFFLEPUUUF!" before going back to his snogging.

The Headmaster sighed. "Professor Zaine, Missus Myrtle, please restrain yourselves…Thank you. Now, to Hermione Granger: For a cool head in the face of fire," Harry, recognizing a pun, let out a hoot. "…And dedication to your friends, I award one hundred points." Those who expected the Ravenclaw table to act subdued were shaken to their core as the roar of approval shook the very halls.

"YES, INDEED, WELL DONE MISS GRANGER!" The Headmaster yelled, his ears still ringing. Madam Pomfrey sent a pink spell at him that made him shake his head. "Well done indeed. Onto Slytherin…. Polina Cura: for outstanding bravery and the wisdom to seek out those more experienced than you to 'solve a problem' I award one hundred points. Don't clap just yet, Slytherin, we aren't done awarding points. To Draco Malfoy, for excellent forethought and the courage to face great danger, I award one hundred points. To Harry Potter…for leading a team of ragtag friends through a gauntlet of death to defeat a dark wizard and arguably save the wizarding world, I award _two hundred points._ Finally, each of you will receive 50 points for your roles in defense of the school, and each of you will receive a Special Award for Services to the School." The school fell silent. Before all the houses burst into applause so loud that a chandelier fell from the ceiling, and yet still they keep cheering.

Once it had died down, the Headmaster smiled somewhat vindictively. "And now, to indulge in my curmudgeonly ways, I hereby remove fifty points from Harry Potter for, quite frankly an impressively vulgar vocabulary!" The hall was silent. They did not know how to process this. "Now, that said and done, let us feast!"

The entire school was in such good spirits that they almost missed their grades, from the most studious seventh year to the laziest first year. Fortunately, the grades came regardless of the student's attention, and low and behold! Polina was first in her year, as if anyone who knew her had any doubt. Hermione scored a solid second place. Draco and Harry scored somewhat evenly, at an impressive Exceeding Expectations, bordering on Outstanding. Ron and Neville scored differently on their tests but had roughly the same overall score of _just_ below Exceeding Expectations much to the surprise and joy of both students, and Ron's brothers.

All too soon, however, all the students' belongings were packed away in their trunks. Notes were passed around regarding Rules of Underage Magic Usage, much to the consternation of, well, _all_ the students really. Hagrid took them all back to the train station where they boarded into a neat and tidy – oh, who are we kidding? These are all unruly children who were just told one of their own stopped a Dark Wizard from his evil plot. They were about as neat and tidy as you'd expect, really; not at all. Still, excluding a few accidents and a few students caught excessively snogging, they boarded the train without any broken bones. They made it to the non-magical train station, and only fourteen students had to be reminded to wear their regular clothes. Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Polina had their own compartment and were enjoying the rare normalcy of it all. And at the end, Hermione dragged Harry over to her parents to introduce him while waving Polina and Draco over to tell them all about their year…mostly; the story was heavily edited until the elders could sit down properly. Unfortunately for Harry and Hermione, their friends left shortly after to parts unknown that the two wouldn't disclose, but promised to write during the summer of even all the smallest of details.

Harry was in the midst of a stern staring contest with Hermione's father when he was scooped up from behind and held tightly.

"Harry!" Nymphadora Tonks squealed into his hair. "I'm so glad you're okay! When I say you there lying on the floor, I thought the worst! I'm so glad you killed the bastard! Though a part of me is a little jealous, I wish I could've shown him that even though I don't have the name, I'm still a Black." The elder Grangers thought the young woman was joking about Harry murdering someone until they saw Hermione nodding fiercely. Then, they fainted.

"Let the poor boy go, Nym!" Andromeda scolded, while Ted worked at reviving the Grangers to explain the situation to them. "We can interrogate him later! For now, I'm going to _ground his arse_ for putting himself in danger like that! He can use the rest!"

Harry groaned. He was _not_ looking forward to Summer Break.

* * *

Polina was a happy girl. She has her husbando, she has good friends, and most importantly, she has her family. In fact, all things considered, family was the _most_ important. She happily juggled the Philosopher's Stone in her hand as she skipped down the corridor of her home. She entered a dark room and bounced up to a randomly placed desk, tossing the shiny thing onto it. "Heya, Uncle Vic! Got what you asked for!"

A shadow seemed to materialize behind the desk. The thing opened its mouth to speak, but then Polina interrupted it. "Aw come on Uncle Vic, it's just us here, can we do plain English already?"

It clucked its tongue and leaned forward, "You youths these days, no appreciation for the drama!" It sighed. "Though I'll comply, it's been a while since we've had the chance without that _fool_ interfering in my schemes."

Polina pouted. "Hey, that's _Uncle Zaine_ you're talking about."

The figure rolled its eyes. "Yes, and we give each other shit, it's what we do. Now enough about him, tell me…" Its eyes glinted malevolently. "How'd you manage to get the item for me under the noses of _everyone?_ "

Polina giggled. "It was actually pretty easy. They didn't _know_ Harry had the Philosopher's Stone on him."

 _Harry took the opportunity to examine the mirror. Maybe the stone was embedded in the mirror somewhere, and Quirrell wasn't looking hard enough? Harry hoped so. He tried looking into the mirror itself to start. Maybe it was some magical thing, and the stone only appeared in the reflection or something. Seriously, anything to keep it away from the madman._

"So, once they dragged him up to the Hospital Wing, alls I had to do was snatch it off him while they were figuring out what happened." She smiled brightly. "Seriously Unc, it was a piece of cake."

The figure sighed. "Of course it was that easy…"

Polina tilted her head. "Sooooo…did I do it? Am I 'in' now?"

The figure smiled brightly. "Oh, come on now! You've been 'in' since the very beginning! Welcome to the club, we've got cookies!"

"Raisin…?" She asked suspiciously.

The figure recoiled. "Oh no, we're not _that_ evil. Chocolate chip, duh. Have as many as you want! Just…just not from the kitchen; that way lies the Forbidden Realm." It intoned gravely while Polina giggled.

"Anywhatsis, I can still be friends with Hermione and Harry, and keep Draco as my husbando, right? And still go to Hogwarts for more adventures?" Polina bit her lip. It'd be a shame if she _had_ to leave them behind.

The figure smiled and played with the Philosopher's Stone. "Of course! Just because I'm having you help out with my thing, doesn't mean you can't do your _own_ thing!"

"Woohoo!" Polina threw her hands in the air. "This is the best!"

The figure laughed a cruel, dark laugh. "Oh yes, and it's only getting started."

* * *

 **PLEASE READ**

 **[A/N]** : Oh god, it's _finally_ finished! Well, not the series. We _are_ still doing Book 2/3 (which is now being combined into one relatively big fic) but overall, oh my _gerd_ this was a massive deal to me. And guess what? It's finished _before_ _my birthday_. I'm so damn proud of me right now.

Now…here's the thing. This was a crazy ride. This thing has had _two years_ of pre-production. I'll be posting the first drafts of the story as another thing later, I found the damn thing on my old laptop, but I'm taking a break from fanfiction for a month or two to work on my _own_ book. Cause with this, I'm confident that I _can_. This thing is 75,000 words long, that's 20,000 words over the minimum novel length. I'm pretty sure I can do my own book now. We _will_ be going back over the whole story to fix minor issues, it doesn't work as well on here as it does on my Word doc.

For those of you wondering what that thing was with Ron and Neville, the Editor is writing the chapter that explains that

Finally…and I don't really like doing this for just _one_ fanfic under my belt, but I'm kinda begging for scraps here. No , nothing like that (I kinda don't want to use because of the minor scandal involved with it), but I will ask if anyone wants to buy me a coffee? There's a link on my profile. Anything is appreciated and goes towards me spending more time writing and giving my over-worked and not-paid-at-all editor some food.

 **{E/N}** : FINALLY AFTER TWO BLOODY YEARS! So glad we got this done, and I am also delighted you all seem to be enjoying it so well! Writer is right about editor-in-chief not being paid, but honestly, I'm okay with it. For now. This series is a blast to help out with and I cannot wait to make more and expand to other fandoms. We…MAY put out a later one just because it is almost done being written by myself on the side. Timelines and whatnot do not matter for these things after all!

Anywhose, thanks again. It means a lot. Now go out and eat a poppyseed muffin to spread a little random Chaos; Zaine would appreciate it.


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